Unknown Origins
by Cyberweasel89
Summary: Her memories gone, a shy Courier must learn to adapt to a new life where no one's going to cut her slack for her nervous stutter. Hopefully she'll be able to find some friends as she hunts down the man who left her as a clean slate.
1. Prologue: Fade to Black

Disclaimer: I do not own Fallout: New Vegas. It belongs to Bethesda, who purchased the rights from Black Isle.

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Rating: M

For swearing, nudity, sex, blood, and violence. Hey, it's Vegas, baby.

Genres: Adventure, Action, Romance, Sci-Fi, Post-Apocalyptic, Western

Summary: Her memories gone, a shy Courier must learn to adapt to a new life where no one's going to cut her slack for her nervous stutter. Hopefully she'll be able to find some friends as she hunts down the man who left her as a clean slate.

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Fallout: New Vegas

Unknown Origins

By _Cyberweasel89_

Prologue: Fade to Black

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"You got what you were after, so pay up."

Shit... her head hurt so much... Wait, why the fuck was her vision blurry? Had she been chugging the absinthe again? Or did some asshole slip something more than Mentats in her atomic cocktail?

"You're cryin' in the rain, pally."

Wait, her hands were tied? Shit... this couldn't be good...

"Guess who's wakin' up over here."

Three men in front of her, even more gathered around, obviously all pricks. Judging from their outfits and bandanas, they were all Great Khans. Directly in front of her was a Khan holding a shovel and an African-American one. Between them stood a man in... a checkered suit? Seriously? Ugh. Talk about bad taste.

"Time to cash out."

The checkered suit man threw the butt of his spent cigarette on the ground and stomped it out. She could smell the delicious smoke wafting over her nose right now.

"Will you get it over with?"

The African-American man on the left seemed annoyed... The checkered suit man raised his hand, his index finger skyward. "Maybe Khans kill people without lookin' 'em in the face... But I ain't a fink. Dig?"

The checkered suit man reached into his jacket and pulled out a poker chip. She instantly recognized it as that stupid platinum poker chip she was hired to deliver to the Strip, faintly lit up in the distance. "You've made your last delivery, kid." He placed it back in his jacket, his hand lingering inside as he spoke. "Sorry you got twisted up in this scene."

He was holding a nickel-finish pistol with an ivory grip when his hand emerged. Nine millimeter by the look of it. Highly engraved, with some bullshit religious image on the grip. She couldn't make it out with his fat fingers in the way and her vision so goddamn blurry.

"From where you're kneeling, it must seem like an eighteen karat run of bad luck." He pointed the gun at her. She promptly spit in his eye. The gaggle of Khans took to laughing uproariously as their boss removed a handkerchief from his jacket with his free hand and wiped the loogie from his face.

"She's gotta lotta fight in her for someone lookin' down the barrel of a gun!" the one with the shovel howled.

"Bull's eye, too! Even after that whack in the back a' the head!" the African-American one wailed.

She smirked at the checkered suit man's visibly repressed anger, satisfied that she had humiliated him in front of his Khan goons as a final fuck you. He stepped closer to her, returning the handkerchief to his jacket.

"Cute. Especially for a broad your size."

"What're ya doin'?" a Great Khan to her right asked.

The prickweed pressed the gun right against her forehead. "I don't wanna miss after that." he explained with a smirk. She only smirked back.

"From where you're kneeling, it must seem like an eighteen karat run of bad luck. But truth is... the game was rigged from the start, sweetheart."

Even as he squeezed the trigger, she continued to mock him with a smug look on her face, delighted that it was upsetting him all the more. Hey, at least she'd had a good run. She'd have to remember to come back and haunt this sorry dickhead.

There were two loud bangs, but she only heard one and a half bangs before her world faded to black...

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"You're awake. How about that."

An unfamiliar voice greeted her as she opened her eye. The light was blinding at first, but her eye quickly adjusted. She attempted to pull herself into a sitting position.

"Whoa, easy there. Easy. You've been out cold a couple a days now."

A hand steadied her. When she looked, there was a man in front of her. An older gentleman, balding with white hair and a white mustache, dressed in a white lab coat and blue jumpsuit, an odd device on his wrist. He seemed concerned, but calm.

"Why don't you just relax a second. Get your bearings."

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her mind. Then she felt the draft... and looked down to find herself sitting on a bed, the white sheet that had been over her having fallen onto the ground when she sat up... and she was completely naked.

"Are you okay? You seem-"

She shrieked. A loud, deafening, high-pitched shriek of distress as she thrust her arms over her breasts and pulled her legs up against her body.

"Wh-Where am I? Wh-Who are you? Wh-Where are my clothes?"

The stranger reached a hand out, trying to calm her. "It's okay. This is Goodsprings. I'm Doc Mitchell. You're clothes couldn't be salvaged."

"D-Don't touch me! G-Give me something to wear, please!"

The doctor sighed to himself, standing to walk into the other room. "Okay, alright." He chuckled. "And here I thought modesty was dead in the youth of today..."

She sat there on the sofa, in a quasi-fetal position, shivering and trembling. She wasn't cold. She was scared out of her mind. How else was she supposed to feel, waking up in some stranger's house completely naked?

The stranger soon returned, holding some folded-up light blue garment. He held the garment out for her, and she shied away, whimpering. "It's okay. Don't cry now. I'll leave it here and go into the other room while you change."

He set the outfit on the sofa, and left to the other room just like he said he would. When she had found her ability to move again, and made sure he wasn't going to peek in on her, she grabbed the garment to find it was some sort of... light blue gown with ties in the back. She hurriedly slipped herself into it.

"Done yet?"

She gave a start at the stranger's voice. She hurriedly tied the back... only to realize something. "Um... uh... uh... S-Sir?"

"What is it?" came his gentle reply.

"This... um... doesn't have a back."

The doctor walked back into the room, and she showed him, blushing a deep crimson. Sure enough, it was completely backless, leaving her naked rear on display.

"Yeah. It's meant to be like that. It's a patient gown, commonly used in hospitals before the War."

Blushing even deeper, she looked away from the stranger to try and keep some semblance of her dignity in this backless gown, trying not to think about how much of her ass was on display. Sighing, she sat back down on the bed, the country doctor pulling up a chair to sit in front of her.

"Ready? Calm again? Okay. Let's see what the damage is. How about your name? Do you remember your name?"

She opened her mouth to give her name... only to close it when nothing came to mind.

"So, you lost your memory, huh? Can't even remember your own name? Well, hopefully it'll come to ya with time." He shifted positions in his chair, leaning forward with his hands clasped under his chin. "I'm Doc Mitchell. Welcome to Goodsprings. And just so ya know, I've been a doctor all my life. So I've seen plenty of people in all kinds a states a undress. No reason to be shy around me."

She blushed and averted her gaze again. His occupation wasn't making her feel any less embarrassed.

He reached to the side and handed her a mirror. "Here ya go. Take a look at yourself. You were shot twice in the head. I had to go rootin' around in your noggin' for all the bits of lead. Let me know if I left anythin' outta place."

She stared into the mirror... only for a total stranger to stare back at her. Pale skin, almost completely white, emerald green eye. High cheek bones, a button nose, freckles peppering her cheeks and nose. Her hair... it was long. It even fell in front of her face, the back falling down to mid-back. How could anyone have this much hair? It was incredibly frizzy, too. Kinda messy, possibly from being out for so long. As if matching her pale skin, freckles, and green eyes, her hair was a deep, slightly rusty red color. She pulled part of her bangs aside, and was surprised to find bandages wrapped around her head at an angle to cover her right eye. She reached for the edge of the bandages, but the doctor reached a hand out to stop her.

"I wouldn't touch that if I were you. I said ya got shot in the head, right? Twice. I may have been a good enough doctor to save your life... but I couldn't save your eye. And ya might want to check your forehead."

She moved the fiery hair from her forehead, and was surprised to find a scar there. Circular, with vein-like protrusions extending out in oblong directions. Yes, definitely a gunshot wound.

"Um... h-how long do I have to wear the bandages, doctor?"

"Well, I had to remove your entire right eye to avoid infection. It's just a heavily scarred socket right now. You should fully heal in a few days, but don't remove the bandages until you've got somethin' else to protect yer socket with."

She took a moment to look around the room, and found it very blurry. "Um... doctor... why's everything so fuzzy?"

Doc Mitchell quirked an eyebrow. "Hm? Oh. Well, you still have one eye left. You must be nearsighted in it. Lemme go fetch a pair."

The doctor got up and walked into the other room. He soon returned with a pair of glasses with perfectly round, thick lenses with no frames around then, as well as a green ribbon. He placed the glasses on for her, making her lightly blush from the tender care, then held out the ribbon for her to take. "You can use this to tie your hair with. Someone like you with that much could probably use it."

She squeaked out a tiny thank you, running her hands through her frizzy, messy hair to tie it with the deep green ribbon. When she struggled with it, the doctor patted her on the shoulder, motioning for her to turn around. She turned, blushing as he carefully and gently tied her hair. When he was done, her hair was, save for a great deal of untidy frizz that fell from her bangs to frame her face, swept back into a ponytail and tied with the ancient ribbon. Beyond that it poofed quite a bit in most other directions. She hoped some of this frizz would go down once she washed her hair... She turned around, fidgeting with her fingers nervously. "Th-Thank you, doctor... y-you've been so nice to me."

"Don't mention it. Now... are you hungry?"

She was about to answer no, but then her stomach growled, making Doc Mitchell chuckle.

"Lemme go fetch ya somethin' to eat."

The girl nodded, watching the doctor walk away into another room. She looked down at her body, getting a look at it for the first time.

Like her face, her body was very pale, like most redheads, but her shoulders and arms were dotted with freckles like her cheeks and nose, which she could see when she pulled up the sleeves of her jumpsuit, or pulled the collar off her shoulders. Her breasts were... very large. Especially on her small frame. She guessed she was about five feet tall, and quite petite except for her breasts. She wasn't slender, though, nor athletic. The little roll her stomach made when she sat down and leaned forward proved that. She lifted the skirt of her patient gown up next to get a look at her lower areas, surprised to find her red hair was completely natural. She really was a ginger, wasn't she?

"I'm back."

The girl hurriedly pushed her patient gown back down before the doctor saw her staring at her nether regions, turning to see the doctor walk in with a tray holding a metal spoon and a brown bowl of steaming liquid that smelled really good. He sat down in the chair and placed it on the girl's lap. Grabbing the spoon, he dipped it into the bowl and held it out for her mouth to take it, which she blushed and allowed.

"What is this?" she asked after she swallowed it.

"Wasteland penguin soup." Doc Mitchell explained.

"What's a wasteland penguin?"

"Well, they're pretty common around here, but I guess you wouldn't know that due to yer amnesia, so I'll try to explain. There were these animals around before the War called chickens that were used to lay eggs for eating, and also had pretty good meat. Supposedly, their ancestors were big lizards that lived millennia ago. Well, after the bombs fell, the chickens devolved back to reptilian scales, though they still kept their overall body structure, still lay good eggs, and still have good meat. Farming towns like Goodsprings raise them along with centisheep, Brahmin, pig rats, and bighorners."

"Centisheep? Bighorners? Brahmin? Pig rats?"

"Well, those are long stories. The bombs caused mutations in a lot of other animals, too. Centisheep are really long sheep with lots of legs. Pig rats are like mole rats, but with more pig like qualities and really good meat, unlike their more mole-like cousins. Brahmin are two-headed cattle, while bighorners are mutated mountain goats, or something like that. We mostly raise bighorners in this town."

"What do you use them for?"

"Meat and hide, mostly. Ya can't put a pack on them like ya can a Brahmin. Bighorners just lie down until ya take it off again."

She giggled at that. Seemed like bighorners were both lazy and smart.

"Now, finish your soap, then we'll be ready for some more tests."

"Tests?"

"Well, I need to make sure you're still physically capable. Not to mention a few psychiatric tests. Nothin' sayin' those bullets did leave you nuttier than a bighorner droppin'."

She nodded, finishing up her soup quickly so as not to make the doctor wait.

"Done? Good. Now, try standin' up. Let's see if we can get ya on yer feet."

Doc Mitchell held out his hand, and she carefully grasped it, blushing once more at the contact. She stood up from the bed, took a step forward, and stumbled. She would've wiped out had the doctor not caught her as she fell forward. She looked up at him, her face a deep red. "Um... uh... um... th-thank you, d-doctor..."

"It's alright. I figured you'd have some difficulty at first. Try to take a few steps forward. Test your legs out. Good. Now follow me over to the vigor tester machine over here."

She followed him over, crossing her arms under her breasts. It wasn't that she was embarrassed by the their size, even if the material of the patient gown was very thin and really bulged out in the chest because of them. As much as she was embarrassed by the size, her arms had a much more important job in guarding her dignity. She... was bouncing...

"Good job. Your legs are in fine shape."

She looked down sadly. "I'm... I'm five feet tall..."

"There's nothing wrong with bein' short. At least you're..." he cleared his throat. "Proportionately petite."

Except these... she thought, hiking her crossed arms up a bit more under her hefty bosom.

"Now, don't worry. Just give the Vit-o-matic Vigor Tester a try. We need to see what faculties come with your compact size."

She looked up at the strange machine before her. "Um... h-how does it work?"

"Just push the button with your palm. It'll give ya a fortune on your prowess in various fields."

She reached a hand forward and pressed the button. The machine began flipping through various phrases before coming to a stop. Strength... Lightweight. Perception without glasses... Squinting Newt. Perception with glasses... Sniper Hawk. Endurance... Handle with Care. Charisma... Diplomat. Intelligence... Smartypants. Agility... Walks on Water. Luck... Stacked Deck.

"Well, your agility is top notch. Charisma and Intelligence are really good, too" Doc Mitchell mused, sounding impressed.

"But... my strength and endurance... they're..." she said sadly.

"Below-average is all. I wouldn't worry about that. Now, how about you come into the next room and I give ya a quick psych test? Gotta make sure them bullets didn't leave you nutty in the head."

He led her into the next room. She followed quietly behind, her arms still crossed under her breasts not for coverage, but for support... as embarrassing as that was.

"Just have a seat on the couch. I'll ask you a few questions."

She took a seat, squeezing her legs together and sitting up straight in a very rigid and unrelaxed sitting pose.

"All right. I'm gonna say a word. You just say the first word that comes to mind. Dog."

"Um... cat."

"House."

"Uh... sh-shelter."

"Night."

"D-Dream."

"Bandit."

She swallowed hard. "Um... c-crush."

"Light."

"Uh... inspiration?"

"Mother."

"Regret?"

"Okay, now I've got a few statements. I want you to tell me if they sound like somethin' you'd say."

She wasn't sure why that came to mind... she couldn't even remember ever having a mother... "Um... o-okay."

"First one. Conflict just ain't in my nature."

"Uh... s-strongly agree."

"I ain't given to relyin' on others for support."

"Um... Strongly disagree."

"I'm always fixin' to be the center of attention."

"S-Strongly disagree!"

"Easy there. I'm not accusin' you of anythin'."

She blushed, averting her gaze from the doctor. "S-Sorry."

"It's okay. Next one... I'm slow to embrace new ideas."

"Uh... strongly disagree?"

"I charge in to deal with my problems head on."

"S-Strongly disagree."

"Almost done here." He turned around and grabbed some flashcards from behind his back, holding up an inkblot drawing. "What do ya say ya have a look at this. Tell me what ya see."

"A b-broken chain... I think..."

"Okay. How 'bout this one?" He flipped to the next one.

She immediately blushed and looked away. "I'm... I'm too embarrassed t-to say what it looks like..."

"That's okay. Now, this is the last one."

"A... a light in the darkness." On second glance, it looked more like two bears high-fiving...

He set the cards aside. "Well, that's all she wrote."

She gave a sigh of relief. All this attention was making her head swim...

"Hope ya don't mind, but I ran some tests on ya while you were unconscious to get a sense of your medical history. Just a formality. Ain't like I think ya got a family history of gettin' shot in the head. I don't have nothin' to compare it to, so maybe you'd better just have a look at the results. See if it all seems right to you."

The doctor handed her a sheet of paper, which she looked over. It seemed he did a number of tests, and the result were primarily that she was terribly nearsighted and needed eyeglasses, had a small body frame that might make her limbs more susceptible to injury, high metabolism as the likely reason why she was so petite, a slight natural resistance to radiation, absorbed less radiation from ingested food and drinks than most people, and showed a natural resistance to the addictive effects of chems like Med-X.

"Um... It looks okay, Doctor. But... If my metabolism is so high, why are my, um..."

"Why are you so... well-endowed?" She blushed. "My guess would be good genes. It's really the only thing that determines proper breast size. They look about a DDD if you use American bra sizes, but my guess is they'd be even larger if you put on more weight."

She right then and there vowed she'd never do that. She didn't want them getting any bigger.

"Alright, I guess that about does it. Come with me. I'll see ya out."

He got up, gesturing her to follow him. She sat up, again resuming the position of her arms crossed under her breasts for support. She followed him to the door, swallowing hard at the sight of it at the end of the long hallway.

"Here. These are yours. Was all ya had on ya when you were brought in."

He handed her a few bottlecaps, a blue canteen with a yellow thirteen on it, a red magazine titled Pugilism Illustrated, and a piece of paper with something written on it.

"I hope ya don't mind, but I gave the note a look. Thought it might help me find some next of kin. But it just mentions somethin' about a platinum chip."

She glanced over it.

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Mojave Express Delivery Order (6 of 6)

INSTRUCTIONS

Deliver the package at the north entrance to the Vegas Strip, by way of Freeside. An agent of the recipient will meet you at the checkpoint, take possession of the package, and pay for the delivery. Bring the payment to Johnson Nash at the Mojave Express agency in Primm.

Bonus on completion: 250 caps

MANIFEST

This package contains:

One (1) Oversized Poker Chip, composed of Platinum

CONTRACT PENALTIES

You are an authorized agent of the Mojave Express Package until the delivery is complete and payment has been processed, contractually obligated to complete this transaction and materially responsible for any malfeasance or loss. Failure to deliver to the proper recipient may result in forfeiture of your advance and bonus, criminal charges, and/or pursuit by mercenary reclamation teams. The Mojave Express is not responsible for any injury or loss of life you experience as a result of said reclamation efforts.

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"I guess I'm a courier..." she mused.

"Then I guess that'll have to do for a name for now."

"Yeah... um... and I should probably see Johnson Nash in Primm. H-He might know who I am..."

"Well, if you're headin' back out there, you oughta at least have this, so ya don't have to walk around in just a patient gown. Belonged to my wife. We used to live in Vault Twenty-One. She didn't like wearin' it after we moved. Felt it was too brazen." He held out a folded-up blue garment for her. She took it and unfolded it to find it was some kind of blue jumpsuit with a yellow twenty-one on the back. She slipped it on, only to find the arms and legs were too long, and when she tried to zip it up, it wouldn't fully zip over her breasts.

"Um... D-Doctor? It... d-doesn't fit."

"Oh. Well... Like I said, it belonged to my wife. Guess she was taller than you and..." he cleared his throat uncomfortably. "...not as well-endowed."

The newly-dubbed Courier sighed, gazing down at the ground.

"Oh, don't feel bad. Her, you can have this, too." He held out some sort of device. "They call it a Pip-Boy. Like I said, I grew up in Vault Twenty-One. We all had one of these."

He held out a hand for her right arm, which she gave, letting him fix the device on her. "It's a Personal Information Processor made by RobCo and Vault-Tec before the war. It's got a built-in clock, radio, and map readout. Ya can download and store Holotape messages, be it audio or text, and scan paper notes for storage as well. It has readouts as a health monitor, Geiger counter, and substance analyzer. The screen can even light up as a flashlight, and it's waterproof, too. I've also heard word that ya can play games on it and it's got enough data storage to download an entire dictionary and encyclopedia, but ya'd have to find those add-ons somewhere else, 'cause I don't got 'em. Ain't much use to me now, but ya might find a need for it. I know what it's like to have somethin' takin' from ya."

She looked up at the elderly doctor, her eye wide. "You're... you're really giving this to me? But... it must be worth so much..."

The doctor crossed his arms and shook his head. "Not to me, I'm afraid. Left the Vault life behind me after what happened to Vault Twenty-One. Besides, I wouldn't feel right sendin' a little lady as young as you out into the world with as much as I could offer."

"But don't you need it?"

"I already have one." He showed the Courier his wrist, where he indeed already had a Pip-Boy fixed to it. "That one belonged to my wife, too, like the jumpsuit."

Her eye teared up. "Th-Thank you, sir..."

"Oh, and I don't want the locals pickin' on ya for lack a' modesty in that half-zipped Vault suit. So take this to the general store and ask for some good clothes."

He handed her a slip of paper. She gazed down at the numbers and words written on it. "Um... what is this?"

"It's an invoice for the clerk who runs the store. Show him that, and he'll set ya up with any supplies ya need to set off, for free. Let's just say bein' a Vault doctor in a farming town earns ya a coupla favors."

She sniffled, wiping her one remaining eye with her hand. "Th-Thank you, sir. You've been so nice..."

He just smiled warmly. "Don't mention it. I'm a doctor. It's what I'm here for. Now, before ya leave, you'll likely wanna talk to Sunny Smiles, our town's unofficial sheriff. She can teach ya some tricks to fend fer yerself out in the wastes. You'll likely find her down at the saloon. I reckon some of the other folks at the saloon might be able to help ya out as well. Like the metal fella, Victor, who pulled ya outta yer grave."

"Um... Metal fellow? G-Grave?"

"Just talk to him. You'll see. Ya ever get hurt again, ya come right on back and I'll fix ya up. Just try not to get killed again."

He winked at her, and she gave a small giggle at his little joke. Thanking him one more time, she took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping out into the Mojave sun.

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Author's Notes:

1. The Two Bears High-Fiving thing is a reference to a mod that adds that option for that ink blot. The mod is so popular that it was referenced with a character in the Honest Hearts DLC.

2. Doc Mitchell wearing a Vault Lab Uniform is simply because I figured he'd only be comfortable in vault attire, having grown up in one, like Michael Angelo and Sarah. He does say the vault suit was his wife's if the Courier is female, so I figured, why not the Pip-Boy he gives you as well?

**3.** It has been brought to my attention that Doc Mitchell says the vault suit isn't his style if you play as a male Courier. As I have only played as female Couriers, I was not aware of this at the time of writing this.

**4.** For those of you reading the reviews and finding them inconsistent with the story, please know that I am currently re-writing this story to make it more appealing to the non-anime crowd. As a proud otaku, I was not aware that my anime-isms had snuck into the story and the protagonist, so I shall be fixing some of them to appeal to the Fallout fans who don't like anime. However, this is still my fanfic, so not all of them will be changed. Please be on the lookout for updated and re-written chapters.


	2. Chapter 1: After My Dreaming

Disclaimer: I do not own Fallout. It belongs to Bethesda, who purchased the rights from Black Isle.

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Fallout: New Vegas

Unknown Origins

By _Cyberweasel89_

Chapter 1: After My Dreaming

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The early morning light was blinding at first. The Courier squinted her eye, holding up her hands to shield herself from the disorienting sun. When her vision adjusted, she saw quite a peculiar thing... a robot, passing by on the road just in front of the house. It stopped in its path to turn to look at her, waving its robotic arm.

"Howdy pardner! Might I say, you're lookin' fit as a fiddle."

The Courier approached and fidgeted with her hands nervously before the tall, uni-wheel robot. The cowboy image on its screen kept flickering... "Um... h-have we met, sir?"

"A 'course we have! Name's Victor. I'm the one that done dug ya outta that grave those nasty folk buried ya in after they shot ya in the head."

Her face brightened. "R-Really? Th-Thank you so much, sir!"

"Don't mention it! I'm always happy to lend a helpin' hand to a stranger in need."

"Um... Mr. Victor, sir, how did you f-find me?"

The robot laughed. "No need to be nervous, little lady! I was out for a stroll the other night when ah heard the commotion from the old bone orchard. Saw what looked like a bunch a bad eggs, so I laid low. Once they'd run off, I dug you up to see if you was still kickin'. Turns out you were. So I hauled you off to the Doc right quick."

"Th-Thank you, Mr. Victor."

"Again, don't mention it. And just Victor is fine. And your name, little lady?"

"Uh... I'm the Courier."

Though the flickering cowboy face remained the same, the robot often gestured with his long, tube-like manipulators to add emphasis to his words. "Courier, huh? Well, I don't judge what names people give their children. I think we're gonna be good friends, Courier."

She blushed. "Th-Thank you, Victor. Um... d-do you know who those men were, by any chance?"

"Can't say that I'm familiar with the rascals. Some a the fine folks in town might be able to help ya with that."

"Okay... Um, may I ask something... personal?"

"I reckon that's okay, little lady."

"Um... I've... never seen a robot like you before... I mean, I have amnesia, but it only seems to have affected my memories of my life, who I knew, and any current events in the world. I still remember things like bottlecaps for currency and robots like Protectrons. But... even with that knowledge, I don't recognize your model... Um... I'm sorry if that's rude..."

"A course not little lady! I'm a Securitron. RobCo security model 2060-B. Ya likely haven't seen much of us. We're not in common use, aside from policin' the New Vegas Strip. If ya ever see any of my brothers up there, tell 'em Victor says howdy."

"Of course, Victor. But, um... if Securitrons are only used on the Strip, how did you end up in Goodsrpings? I-If you don't mind me asking."

"I moseyed into town, oh, ten, fifteen years ago. Before that I... Hmm... I can't quite seem to recall. Odd. Anyway, it's a right peaceful town, and I reckon it's as nice a place to settle as any."

"Hmm... Well, th-thank you for your time, Victor. And th-thank you for saving my life."

"Don't mention it. Happy trails!"

The robot wheeled off back down the road. Okay, first stop, the general store. She had to get out of this jumpsuit and find something to wear.

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"Howdy! Welcome to Goodsprings General St-" He paused as she approached the counter, looking incredibly unsure of herself. Specifically, he zeroed-in on the huge tits hanging out of her half-zipped vault jumpsuit. Shit, those were big. And that tiny body just made 'em look bigger! Oh! She was right in front of the counter. He quickly composed himself.

"Name's Chet. You must be the one Doc Mitchell was patchin' up. Way I heard it I didn't think you'd be walkin' out of that office. I've got plenty of supplies for sale. Even got some weapon mods and special ammo. Well worth the caps, if ya ask me. If you're hurtin' for caps, I've also got boxes of surplus ammo. They're not great, but ya get what ya pay for."

"Um... actually, uh... D-Doc Mitchell told me to show you this, Mr. Chet." She held up a piece of paper. He took it and skimmed it over, sighing in defeat.

"Shit. Looks like the Doc's callin' in a favor. Whatever ya want, ya can have for free, little lady."

"R-Really? Um... are you sure?"

He sighed once more. "You bet. In fact, you'd be doin' me a favor. Help alleviate this tab I got."

"Tab?"

"Long story. So, what'll it be?"

The girl shifted uncomfortably where she stood, wrapping her arms around her half-exposed breasts protectively. "Um... I c-could use some clothes."

"Clothes, huh? I'm sure I can help ya with that. Will ya be travelin' through the Mojave?"

"S-Something like that."

Chet smiled at her. "Then I've got just the thing for ya. Just got a whole shipment of leather armor in. I'm sure I've got somethin' in your size."

Chet slipped into the back, grabbing a suit of leather armor from one of the crates. Finally, he'd be able to sell one of these things. He returned to the front, grinning to himself, and placed the folded-up ensemble on the counter. "Ya might wanna try that on, see if it fits."

She grabbed the outfit, but then just shifted uncomfortably, gazing around the store. He quirked an eyebrow. "Somethin' wrong?"

"Um... I'm sorry to ask, but... D-Do you have anywhere I can change?"

Chet crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at the girl. "What's wrong with my store? Not clean enough for ya?"

The Courier dropped the armor on the ground, waving her arms frantically. "N-No, no! That's not it! It's just..." She began fidgeting with her hands nervously. "I kinda need somewhere... private... i-if that's okay... sir…"

At first he just stared at her with a perplexed look on his face. But then it hit him. "Oh! Shoot, I didn't think modesty was still around in this day and age. Ya can change in the back." He gestured to the archway behind him with his thumb.

"Y-You won't peek?" she squeaked.

"On my honor as a gentleman. Besides, you're my customer."

The girl blushed and thanked him, heading into the back room to change. To add to her security, he stepped out from behind the counter and went to arrange some of the products on the shelves. Chet had to admit, this girl was a rarity. She seemed so shy and timid. He had to wonder how she survived traveling the wastes without someone to protect her.

"Um... E-Excuse me... Mr. Chet?"

He turned to see her head peeking out from behind the doorframe. "Just Chet. Somethin' wrong?"

"Um... I'm sorry... D-Do you have something else I can w-wear? This makes me feel... u-uncomfortable..."

"If it doesn't fit, I'm sure I can get ya a suit in a different size."

"N-No... It's the pants." she mumbled.

"Too tight? Too loose?" he asked her.

"N-No... It's... Wearing them... it makes my skin crawl... A-And it gives me a headache..."

"Hmm... First time I've heard that. What did ya have in mind?"

"Um... I suppose we could try something... with a skirt?"

"Hmmm... Well, a pre-war spring dress would look amazing on ya." Her adorable blush made him inwardly smile. Was that how she reacted to compliments? "But it's not exactly practical for wasteland traveling..."

She lowered her gaze, crestfallen. "Oh... I see..."

"Now hang on there. I might have just the thing."

Chet walked to a display bin and began to rummage around inside it. He emerged with a folded-up gray garment. "These clothes are standard wear for prospectors. Perfect for desert travel. Best of all, it's a dress."

Her spirits noticeably lifted as he walked behind the counter and handed her the outfit. She gratefully accepted it, mumbling a nervous "Th-Thank you..."

She disappeared into the back again, so he returned to organizing the shelves. After several minutes, he called into the back. "How is it?"

"Um... I-It doesn't fit... a-and I c-can't close the top..." she mumbled, fidgeting in extreme discomfort.

"Well, that's the best traveling dress I have in the shop. If ya want, I can arrange for a custom dress to be made to your size."

The Courier blushed, gazing downward and fidgeting with her hands. "You'd do that for me? Um... How long would it take?"

"A few days. But I can give ya some other supplies for now until then." He directed the girl to the front of the counter, while he went around behind it. "First, you'll need some travelin' boots. Your feet are pretty small, but I reckon I have somethin' in your shoe size. You also'll probably want a side satchel to carry things in. While I'm at it, I got an old leather backpack I've been wantin' to get rid of. I'll throw it in, too. Even comes with a portable bedroll ya can strap to it."

She gazed at him with concern as he rung up the items. "Um... A-Are you sure? I d-don't have much to pay you with..."

Chet just chuckled. "Little lady, I'm not sure you understand what showin' me that invoice meant. Everything for you right now is free. In fact, it'll help relieve my debt to Doc Mitchell."

Her eye teared up as she looked up at the shopkeeper. "Th-Thank you so much for your kindness..."

"Hey, now don't cry. It's the least I could do for a poor courier who got shot in the head. You may not realize it, but you've been the talk of the town for the last few days. Everyone was wonderin' when you'd wake up. Now, you best run along. Take it easy now."

XXXXXXXXXX

The Courier stepped into the saloon, only to be greeted with a dog barking at her. She recoiled, trembling in fright at the loud creature.

"Cheyenne, stay. Don't worry. She won't bite unless I tell her to."

She looked to see a girl walking towards her, dressed in leather armor and with her strawberry blonde hair tied back.

"Um... a-are you Sunny Smiles?" she squeaked.

"You bet. You must be that courier Doc Mitchell fixed up. Nice vault suit. Got a name?"

"I don't remember it... B-But um, y-you can just call me the Courier, i-if you want..."

"Amnesia, huh? Guess that's to be expected when ya get shot twice in the head. Looks like your eye's still healin' up."

"Um... Sort of... uh... wh-what do you do around here, Sunny?"

"I hunt Geckos, mostly. The meat's pretty good, and I can always find a buyer for the hides. I also help keep the town clear of radscorpions and coyotes. Not many people live in Goodsprings, so wildlife is always creepin' in."

"Um... D-Doc Mitchell said you could teach me to survive uh... in the desert...?"

"Yeah. I guess there's a thing or two I could show you. Sounds like you need all the help you can get after what they done to you. Follow me."

XXXXXXXXXX

Sunny led her to the area behind the saloon. There were bottles lined up on the fence. She got into position with Cheyenne.

"Now, see the Sarsaparilla bottles on the fence? Take this and try to hit a couple of 'em."

Sunny handed her her varmint rifle. She had to show the Courier the proper way to hold it and aim. She lined the rifle up with one of the bottles on the fence, taking a deep breath, but the second she pulled the trigger, she got a sudden, sharp pain in her head. The gun pulled, the shot hitting the wall above and to the left.

"Easy there, now. Try again."

The Courier tried aiming once more, but the sharp pain had left a throbbing ache in her head that persisted even while she tried to line up the sight once more. She pulled the trigger again, and the shot missed by a long shot, hitting the edge of the workbench just down the alley.

"Somethin' wrong? You look like you're in pain." Sunny inquired.

"Just a headache... Um... I don't think guns are my strong point... I'm sorry..."

She handed the rifle back to the unofficial sheriff. "Well, I suppose headaches should be expected after gettin' shot twice in the head. You might wanna ask Doc Mitchell for some follow-up medication for those brain pains."

The Courier looked down sadly. Sunny just sighed. "Don't worry. Guns just probably aren't your strong suit. Conventional ones, at least. We might be able to find a laser pistol for you, or something. Tell ya what. I gotta go chase geckos away from our water supply anyway. Darn critters are attracted to it. Why don't you come along?"

"Okay. Th-Thank you, Sunny... I'll try not to get in the way..."

XXXXXXXXXX

Sunny led the Courier just to the southeast, where rocky cliffs rose several yards above the ground. She heard an unusual noise just ahead when Sunny stopped her at a wall.

"Hear that? There's some geckos up there for us to clear out. Bunch of little monsters is what they are. Seems like Doc Mitchell treats more gecko bites than anything else. Let's see if we can get a little closer. If we move quietly, we can get the jump on 'em. More likely to hit somethin' vital that way."

Sunny crouched down and started moving on ahead. The Courier followed suit, just behind her. Up ahead beyond the cliff wall was a pump and trough. She heard more of the odd screeching from earlier, and it was closer this time.

"Stay here, Courier. I don't want you gettin' hurt." the unofficial sheriff instructed her.

The Courier nodded, swallowing hard as Sunny crept closer in, her dog Cheyenne just behind her. The fact that the canine knew how to sneak with her master really said a lot about her intelligence. The Courier inwardly smiled at the thought.

There were two geckos. Sunny crouched low in the shrubs and fired on one's head. Cheyenne lunged out of another shrub just as the other gecko turned to where the sound of the gun was. The dog tackled the lizard to the ground, her teeth tearing open the thing's neck. Sunny fired two more shots into the first gecko's head, and it was down. She holstered her weapon and returned to the Courier with her loyal hound at her side.

"Kinda nice to have an audience." the unofficial sheriff said to her with a smile. The Courier blushed and let out a tiny giggle. "There's still two more wells to clear. Might be worth a few caps to me if you came along."

"What? R-Really? B-But I'm not doing anything..." the Courier noted sadly.

"You're keepin' me company. That's enough for me. Now let's go."

The Courier followed Sunny along down the hill to the next well. This time, the element of surprise was not on their side. A gecko came charging toward them on its hind legs, it's fangs bared, frills flared out, and hissing. The Courier took a step back, frightened. Cheyenne stopped it's charge with a lunging tackle, possibly having been trained to go right for the throat. Sunny was soon firing on another gecko charging up behind the first one. A third one charged up, and as the first two fell to the ground, Cheyenne and Sunny set upon it at the same time. The dog lunged and bit into the beast's arm, while Sunny aimed three shots right through the head, felling the beast. The Courier was impressed. This time, they didn't stop to chat about it. Sunny ran on ahead immediately, so the Courier took off to catch up to her.

She was surprised with how easily she gained on the unofficial sheriff's fit, compact body. Up ahead, though, she heard shouting. Human shouting. Cries for help. When the team of three came upon the third well, a woman in a red dress with an apron was sitting atop a rock, kicking down as three geckos attempted to snap at her with their jaws. Cheyenne rushed in and Sunny took aim without another word, but the Courier couldn't wait for Cheyenne to get close enough or Sunny to line up her shot. She dashed ahead, overtaking Sunny's position and even Cheyenne's running at an astonishing rate, and landed a solid flying kick in the back of one of the geckos' heads. Its neck snapped, and it fell dead. The other two geckos turned to look at what killed their friend, only for one to see a fist hit it square in the nose. Before either could react, an upward kick landed the staggering gecko square in the jaw, and it fell onto its back. The Courier turned to the final gecko, which bared it's fangs and hissed. It lunged forward with a snapping jaw, but she fluidly jerked to the side and out of the way, now on the lizard's right. She placed a solid leg sweep to the creature's right leg, knocking its foot out from under it. She followed with a solid punch to the shoulder, then to the creature's abdomen with her other fist. The gecko fell to the ground, and the Courier finished it off with a stomp to the back of its neck, cracking its spine. Her victory was short lived, however. Razor-sharp fangs sunk into her arm. The Gecko that had fallen second had gotten back up. The Courier bashed it on the head with a hammer fist, but it refused to get go. With a charge forward, she rammed the beast into a cliff wall. It released her and slumped against the surface. Before it could recover from its stagger, the Courier launched a left hook to the beast's face, then a right hook, following by a solid knee to its stomach. As it bent over in pain, she landed a straight kick to its face, cracking its skull and sending it falling to the ground, dead.

The Courier stood over the three fallen geckos, panting heavily. A sharp pain registered in her forearm, and she brought her hand to the limb to see blood seeping out from where the gecko had bit her. Sunny ran up to her, her gun holstered and fishing something out of her pocket.

"Now that was some good work! Exciting, too! I've never seen anyone move like that. You're the first I've seen to take out three geckos barehanded and only come out with a bite on the arm." She pulled a stimpak out of her pocket and stabbed the needle into the Courier's arm. Right away, the wound began to heal. "I was right about guns not bein' your strong suit. Looks like you're an unarmed fighter."

The Courier blushed, still panting heavily as the settler she saved slowly walked up, her hands clasped together. "Holy moly... If you hadn't come here like you done... You just swooped in and... I'd be a goner for sure... I couldn't even see you at first... I came up here to draw water, but here, you should have what I got. You look thirsty." She handed the Courier a bottle of water. She gratefully chugged it, but winced, setting the bottle down and looked at her scraped and scratched knuckles. "Hm... Here, take this." She handed the Courier a handful of bottlecaps. "Go see Chet at the general store and ask for a roll of boxing tape. A martial artist like you should really wear it to protect your hands."

"I... I can't take your money..." the Courier mumbled. She was still a little out of breath.

"Nuh-uh. You saved my life. I wish I could give you more."

The settler leaned in and gave the Courier a hug, then smiled and turned to head back to town. The Courier blushed, looking down at the handful of bottlecaps in her palm. This was probably more than a roll of boxing tape would cost... but she'd take the woman's advice.

"Here you go. A little spending money for your trouble."

Sunny handed the Courier a handful of bottlecaps in her other palm. She looked down at them in surprise. "B-But Sunny! I... I didn't do anything..."

The unofficial sheriff just laughed. "You took out three geckos barehanded and saved one of our townsfolk. I'd say you deserve more than your fair share. Now, one more thing I wanted to show you." Sunny turned around and started walking further down the hill, waving her arm for the Courier to follow her. "Thought I might teach you about living off the land, and makin' useful things for yourself."

The Courier swallowed hard and followed after her wise sensei, pocketing the bottlecaps in her side satchel and idly rubbing her aching knuckles.

XXXXXXXXXX

Sunny led her to a small campsite just at the bottom of the hill. Some logs surrounded an old burnt-out campfire, which had quite a few tin cans and bottles lying around it. Sunny grabbed a nearby bowl and a rock, setting it on a makeshift bench.

"We're gonna make a little something people on the trail call healing powder. Stimpaks are hard to come by at times. So we make healing powder for most cases. It's not immediate like a stimpak is, but it's useful after a fight when you have time. Really helps save your stimpaks for when you really need 'em."

Sunny began to grind up a broc flower and some xander root in a small bowl. The Courier watched intently, studying and listening as the unofficial sheriff explained. When her explanation was done, but there was still grinding to be done, the Courier thought it would be a good time to chat.

"Um... what can you tell me about the areas around Goodsprings?"

"You're gonna need to be more specific than that."

"Sorry... uh... any other towns?"

"Southeast of here is Primm. Can't miss it, since it has the giant old roller coaster right in the middle of town. The NCR's got an outpost there."

"NCR?"

"The New California Republic. Bunch of settlers and soldiers coming in from the west, fixin' on makin' Nevada their own. They can be pushy, but the roads are safer 'cause of them, so I tend to let it go. Not that I got a choice." Sunny mused as she worked.

"Um... what does the NCR keep you safe from?" she asked.

"Well, the wildlife for one thing. Rowdy locals for another. They're protecting their own. Just happens to help us. They've been holdin' off this other group from the east, too."

"Um... o-other group? Like... another NCR?"

"Nope. Call themselves Caesar's Legion. Funny name, huh? Never seem 'em in these parts, so I couldn't tell you much. I hear rumors, that's about it. Supposedly they keep slaves and they got some real nasty ways of killin' folks. But maybe that's just somethin' folks in the NCR cooked up to make them seem more useful here. Less uninvited."

"G-Good to know."

The unofficial sheriff set to mixing up the ground-up powders together.

"Um... any other towns around here?" the Courier continued.

"Well, aside from Primm, if you follow the road north, you'll eventually hit Sloan and Quarry Junction. They mine rocks or somethin', but I heard they got troubles lately. I wouldn't head in that direction if I were you, though. Got critters up there that don't take kindly to gettin' shot."

"C-Critters?" she gulped. "Wh-What kind?"

"Not sure. But around here we get coyotes and geckos mostly. The coyotes are pretty dangerous in large packs, but otherwise they're nothin' to really worry about. The geckos aren't too tough, but they've got a nasty bite. I've heard about bigger, nastier version out in the wasteland, but I've never seem them. Stick to the roads when you can, and steer clear of the hills north of Goodsprings. The critters up there are big and poisonous."

"Um... Y-You mentioned Primm. I n-need to go there. Do you, uh... know a good route, maybe?"

"Sure do. Take the road southeast out of town till it hits the freeway. Primm is the town with the roller coaster, straight south. Can't miss it."

"A-Any dangers on the road?"

"NCR patrols do a good job of keepin' the highway clear, but I'd keep your gun where you can reach it easily. Or rather, keep your boxing tape on at all times, just in case. You never know who you'll run into. Off the road, you'll probably start running into hostile wildlife. My advice would be to stick to the highway when you can."

She poured the powder into a brown bag, then handed it out for the Courier.

"There ya go. See, it's easy if you have the right knowhow."

"Th-Thank you, Sunny." The Courier mumbled with a blush, pocketing the bag of healing powder into her backpack. "Um... S-Sunny... I was shot and buried at the graveyard, right? C-Can you please take me there? Maybe I can find a clue that'll uh... jog my memory.

"Sure. But we better leave right away. The sun's just startin' to set."

XXXXXXXXXX

The Courier, Sunny Smiles, and Cheyenne climbed uphill to the northeast, arriving at the Goodsprings cemetery just as night fell. Several graves in various shapes lie across the top of the tall hill, but one in particular stood out. It was a rectangular hole, just a foot or two deep, sitting next to a pile of dirt. A lantern sat between the undug grave and the dirt pile, still illuminating the night air despite what it bared witness to just days ago. The Courier looked down into the grave, her grave, and felt a sudden pain hit her head. Along with it came a vision. A man in a checkered suit... with a whole group of men in bandanas and leather.

_'Truth is... the game was rigged from the start.'_

The gunshots sounded in her mind, and she clutched her head to ease the throbbing pain.

"You okay, Courier?" Sunny asked with concern.

She nodded, swallowing hard. Walking forward, she squatted down to look at a collection of cigarette butts. She remembered now... the man in the checkered suit. He'd been smoking. She wasn't sure why, but she collected the cigarette butts and pocketed them in her backpack. She found seven by the grave and three more by a nearby sapling. For him to have smoked this many cigarettes... they must have been lying in wait for her all night. Like they knew she'd be coming by this very spot.

"Anything jog your memory?" Sunny asked.

"Yeah... A man in a checkered suit... and a gang in leather and bandanas. They were waiting for me here all night, I can tell. He said... the game was rigged from the start..."

Sunny approached the Courier cautiously. "What do you plan to do?"

"I need to find him... He might know who I am." The Courier mumbled staring down into her grave. She gave a start when the unofficial sheriff put an arm over her shoulder.

"Hey. Not tonight, okay? To travel at this time of night would be dangerous. Come stay at my place. I'll treat you to a dinner of gecko steaks, the same ones we hunted earlier. Then we can set you on your way in the morning."

The Courier managed a small smile. "Um... th-thank you, Sunny... B-But I couldn't impose..."

"Nonsense!" she slapped the girl on the back. "Consider yourself my honorary sister. Cheyenne's too."

The dog barked, making the Courier release a tiny giggle.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Wake up! Rise and shine!"

Sunny popped her head into the Caravan mobile home she lived in, only to be met with quite a sight. There was her little disciple, sprawled out on the sofa... completely naked. The blanket apparently fell off her as she tossed and turned in the night, currently bunched up on the floor, but why was a girl as shy as she was sleeping in the nude? The Courier began to stir, holding her hand in front of her eye to block the light as she opened them. She groggily sat up, scratching her nethers and smacking her lips, probably still half-asleep. Sunny crept up on her and gave her a poke on the shoulder. "So you sleep naked, huh?"

The Courier gave a mighty start. Sunny could've sworn she jumped twice her height. She scrambled back on the sofa until she fell off it, landing with a thud on the floor. Sunny gazed over the sofa's edge to see her huddled in the corner of the sofa and wall in an upright fetal position.

"S-S-Sunny! D-D-Don't scare me like that! P-P-Please!"

"Sorry. Just teasing, ya know. Anyway, I'll make you what I call a wasteland omelet. Get dressed."

The unofficial sheriff walked back outside to tend to the campfire, smirking to herself. She caught a glimpse earlier when she was dressed, but now she could really tell. The tiny Courier really did have a serious rack.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Courier! Breakfast's ready!"

She took a seat around the dying campfire and nervously ate her omelet, blushing in embarrassment from what happened earlier. Sunny posed a question that made her blush deepen.

"So, you sleep naked, huh?" Sunny inquired.

The Courier choked a little, but took a sip of water to clear her throat. "Um... I... I was tossing and turning all n-night... I uh... didn't fall asleep until I took off my clothes... I-It's like being naked was the only way I could relax enough to fall asleep..." she shyly explained.

"It's okay. You don't have to explain yourself, Courier. But has anyone ever told you..." The unofficial sheriff swallowed her mouthful. "That you really have a good body?"

The girl blushed. "Um... th-thank you, Sunny. B-But I don't... P-Probably all that time I spent unconscious in bed, or something... I even have a roll when I lean forward"

Sunny shook her head, cutting another piece of her own omelet. "Nah, not like that. For such a tiny kid, you have an amazing set of..."

Sunny rethought what she was about to say. With the Courier looking expectantly at her with such an innocent look on her face, she really wouldn't feel right embarrassing her.

"Never mind. Just... do me a favor. Trudy... she's the bartender up at the Prospector Saloon, kinda the town mom... She likes to meet newcomers. She'd be cross with me if I didn't ask you to poke your head in and say hi."

The Courier nodded, responding with a tiny "Um... okay..."

XXXXXXXXXX

The Courier stepped into the Prospector Saloon. It was a fairly casual establishment, with a nice homey feeling due to the wooden paneling. As she turned to the left and walked to the bar, she saw two people arguing. One was dressed in some kind of bulletproof vest with the letters NCRCF on the back. His outfit was primarily blue tinted. The woman was dressed in a white dress and beige jacket.

"I'm done bein' nice. If you don't hand Ringo over soon, I'm gonna get my friends and we're burnin' this town to the ground. Got it?"

"We'll keep that in mind. Now, if you're not gonna buy somethin', get out." The woman demanded, a gray cat standing on the bar next to her hissing at the man.

The man turned around, running right into her. She gulped. "What the hell is your problem?"

The Courier recoiled in fright. This man was... intimidating. "Um... uh... uh... wh-wh-what were you s-s-saying about R-R-Ringo?"

"Oh. Ya heard that? Eavesdroppers don't live long around here. But ya don't look like one of the locals, so... He's some trader who figured he'd rather shoot than pay the toll for being in our territory. He's hiding somewhere in town. Would serve these idiots right if me and my guys shot the place up after we got payback on Ringo."

She swallowed hard. The taller man's eyes were gazing right down into her exposed cleavage with an amused look. She wondered if he could tell she was shaking. "Th-Th-This area is y-your t-t-territory?"

He smirked. "It is now. Me and the rest of the guys busted out of the NCR prison east of here and took over. Now we're calling the shots."

Now she was sure her trembling was obvious. "P-P-Prison? Wh-What were you in p-prison for?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "None of your damn business. You ought to know better than to ask a man that kind of question."

"I'm... I'm s-s-s-sorry..." she squeaked. She was nearly close to tears.

"Hey! Joe Cobb! I said get out of here! I don't want you harassing my customers!" the woman at the counter shouted over, accompanied by another hiss from the cat.

The prisoner smirked at the Courier once more. "Aw, and just when I was about to see you cry. Oh well. Guess I'll save something special for you if you're here when we raze the place to the ground."

The man maneuvered around her, walking out of the bar area and out the door. The Courier released a breath she'd been holding in so long it had become painful. The bartender gestured her over, so she went and took a seat at the bar. She was still visibly shaking.

"Well, you've been causin' quite a stir." The bartender greeted, sliding her a Nuka-Cola. "Glad I finally got to meet you. Welcome to the Prospector Saloon. I'm Trudy, and this is Adrian." She gestured to the cat, who sat down on the bar counter, meowed in greeting, and began licking his paw to clean behind his ear. "And you must be that courier. Never caught your name in all the rumors."

The Courier relaxed significantly at Trudy's nurturing nature and motherly tone. She pocketed the cap from the bottle and sipped. Mmm... cola goodness. She had to wonder if this was her favorite drink before her memories left her. "Um... j-just call me the Courier. I don't remember my name."

"Amnesia? Sorry to hear that. Well, just know that you're always welcome here." Trudy said, leaning her elbows on the counter and smiling warmly at her.

"Th-Thank you, Trudy. Um... I'm sorry, but I overheard your argument."

"Oh, that? It looks like our little town got dragged into the middle of somethin' we don't want anythin' to do with. About a week ago, this trader, Ringo, comes into town. Survivor of an attack, he says. Bad men after him, needs a place to hide. We figured he was just in shock, so we gave him a place to lie low. We didn't actually expect anyone to come after him." Trudy explained.

"Oh... I'm sorry... um... s-so what are you going to do?" the Courier asked.

"Well, some of the others, like Sunny, will probably stand up for Ringo if he asks for help, which he hasn't. Personally, I hope he sneaks out of town one night and takes the Powder Gangers with him."

"Um... Powder Gangers?"

"Chain gangs, really. The NCR brought them in from California to work on the rail lines. Problem is, it turns out that giving convicts a bunch of dynamite and blasting powder isn't the best idea. Was a big escape not too long ago. Some of 'em stuck together so they could make trouble. That's what we're dealing with now."

"Oh... Um... where is Ringo now?"

"He's holed up at the abandoned gas station up the hill."

"Okay. Th-thank you."

Trudy smiled. "No problem, sweetie. Anythin' else ya need?"

"Um... Does Goodsprings get many visitors?"

"Mostly traders lookin' to buy bighorner meat and hides. The traders are the main reason the General Store manages to stay in business. Most travelers headin' south on the I-15 just push on towards Primm, unless they're in desperate need of supplies."

"Sorry to hear that. Um... M-My knowledge of things like robots and g-ghouls seems to be fine, but I can't remember, uh... any current events. Um... wh-what's going on in the world today?"

"There's always somethin' interestin' goin' on, but the biggest news has to be the comin' dustup between the NCR and the Legion over the dam."

"The NCR... Sunny mentioned them. Um... c-can you tell me about them?"

"The New California Republic's got the most power in Nevada. Money, troops, you name it. They do what they can to keep things safe in the region, but if you ask me, they're tryin' to do too much. They're spread too thin."

"A-And the Legion? Sunny mentioned them, too, but she couldn't tell me much about them..."

"Well, they're slavers, killers, and all other kinds of trouble. They dress up like Roman soldiers, so there's no mistakin' it when you see them. The rumor is that the Legion is far larger than the NCR lets on and that it's been due to luck that the Legion hasn't overrun the territory."

The Courier swallowed hard, taking another sip of her cola to try and fix her dry mouth. "Um... wh-why do you think they both want the dam?"

"I'm pretty sure the NCR wants to hold onto the dam because it's one of the few places around that can make electricity. The Legion are a bunch of savages, though. No idea why they'd want the dam. Probably plan on destroyin' it or somethin'."

"Thanks for all the info. I feel so lost..." she sighed.

Trudy just smiled. "No problem, sweetie. Need any other info while we're at it?"

She thought for a moment. "Uhhh... Oh! Do you know the robot who... who rescued me?" She blushed at the thought. Sure, he was a robot, but that metal was like a knight's shining armor in her eyes.

"I know that... _thing_... as much as anyone else around here. It mostly keeps to itself, which is just fine by me." the bartender dismissed.

The Courier's dreamy blush immediately fell away. "You... you d-don't... like him?"

"It acts friendly enough, but I don't trust that whole 'cheerful cowboy' act. I find it all very creepy." A shiver ran up and down Trudy's spine at the thought, it seemed.

The Courier looked down at the counter sadly. "Um... how long as he been in Goodsprings?"

"It was here when I took over the saloon seven years ago. Some people have said its owner lived here, but no one knows who it was."

It... not he? It... Could Trudy really be so hurtful? "And... um... what does _he_ do around here?"

"Other than rollin' around once in awhile, _it_ doesn't do anythin' useful as far as I can tell. I don't know why it took an interest in you, but I'd be careful. It's never helped anyone before."

She felt a single tear come to her remaining eye, but she wiped it away. The Courier took another sip of her Nuka-Cola before continuing. "Um... I'm trying to track down the people who tried to kill me. D-Do you know anything about them?"

"Not much, other than they're a bunch of freeloaders who expected a few rounds on the house. I was able to get them to pay up, though." The Courier gave a small smile. Hate the action, not the person, she reminded herself. "Course one of the Great Khans did knock my radio to the floor 'by accident', and it hasn't been workin' since."

"I'm sorry... um, d-did they say where they were going?"

"They kept havin' some kind of argument about it, but the guy in the checkered coat kept shushin' them. Sounds like they came in from the north through Quarry Junction. If that's the case I can't say I blame them for not wantin' to go back."

The Courier tilted her head to the side in curiousity. "Oh? Um... why is that?"

"That whole area's overrun with the kinda critters that just get mad if you shoot 'em. Merchants avoid that whole stretch of I-15 like it's radioactive. Which it could be for all I know."

"S-So where were they headed?"

Trudy shrugged. "I didn't hear exactly, but the leader was talkin' about the Strip. Fella wants to get there and avoid the 15, he'd have to go east. Take Highway 93 up."

"Um... th-thank you. Uh... you mentioned your radio was broken. Mind if I um... t-take a look at it?"

"Sure. The outside looks okay, but I think somethin' broke on the inside. There'd be caps in it for ya. I do like to hear what's goin' on in the world. And that Mr. New Vegas seems like such a gentleman."

The Courier nodded, drinking down the rest of her cola before hopping off the stool and stepping behind the counter to the radio. Opening up the back, she gave it a quick look. Hmm... The design of the internal mechanisms looked... oddly familiar. From what she could tell, some of the parts and connections were popped loose when the radio hit the floor. She took out a bobby pin and used it as a tool to give everything a quick adjustment. When she placed the radio back on the counter and flipped the switch. The dial lit up, while the voice of a smooth older gentleman flared up, introducing himself as Mr. New Vegas.

"Nicely done, kid. I'm not sure how you did it, but apparently you had some kind of mechanical knowledge before you got shot in the head."

The Courier blushed, rubbing the back of her head. She really couldn't handle compliments... Trudy brought her out of her embarrassment by taking her hand and placing a handful of bottlecaps in her palm. "Here. For a job well done."

"B-But Trudy... I can't accept this..." the Courier stammered.

"Of course you can. Now you best run along. I'm sure you have a lot to do before you head for the New Vegas Strip."

The Courier blushed, smiling and nodding before turning on her heel and heading for the door.

"Oh, hey, before you leave..." She turned back around to face the bartender. "I can tell you're goin' to talk to Ringo. Just... be careful if you plan to help him."

"Um... why is that?"

"If you'd be able to get Ringo out of this mess, you'd have a decent reputation around Goodsprings. I'd even set ya up with a discount. Of course, helpin' Ringo would also make the Powder Gangers mad, and they've got a lot of friends out there."

The Courier just smiled. "It's okay. That's just a risk I'll have to take."

XXXXXXXXXX

The moment she stepped into the gas station, she was met with a man pointing a shotgun in her face. "That's close enough. Who are you, and what do you want with me?" he demanded.

The Courier swallowed hard, trembling. Flashes of the man in the checkered suit pointing his gun entered her mind, accompanied with a slight throbbing headache. "Um... I'm... I'm... I'm just a c-courier... I'm n-new to town. D-Doc Mitchell fixed me up after I g-got shot in the head. I'm... I'm not l-looking for trouble, I swear!" She was, in fact, more worried about trouble finding her.

The man relaxed, lowering his gun. "Sorry about the gun. You just caught me off guard, that's all."

She let out the breath she'd been holding in. Her muscles relaxed a bit, but she was still slightly trembling.

"The name's Ringo. I'm a trader with the Crimson Caravan Company." he offered his hand. She accepted and shook it, though she noticed his gaze was not on her eye... stupid vault suit... "J-Just call me the Courier, Mr. Ringo. Um... what's the Crimson Caravan Company?"

"The Courier, huh? Mysterious." He walked over to the wall of the tiny store, taking a seat on a burlap mat on the floor, leaning back against the wall. "Well, the Crimson Caravan Company has been in business for a very long time, and is probably the biggest trading outfit in California. There's a branch up in New Vegas, but it hasn't been doing so well. Word is that the big boss herself, Alice McLafferty, is coming in to fix things."

She took a seat against the wall next to him, shifting uncomfortably as she folded her legs in a very ladylike position. "Th-Thank you. But, um... The reason I came to find you... D-Do you know there's a scary man named Joe Cobb l-looking for you?"

"Yeah. He doesn't look very tough, though. I hear he's afraid I'll shoot him down from one of the windows when I see him, and he's right." the merchant asserted with what she found as surprising confidence. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one up with a bronze lighter, then offered her one. She shook her head, a slight throbbing headache already beginning from the smell of the cancer smoke.

"N-No thanks. I d-don't smoke." she stammered.

"Suit yourself. Anyway, I'll have a much bigger problem when his friends show up. There's no way I could handle all of them in a gunfight." Ringo explained, his air of confidence fading.

"Um... I'm sorry if I shouldn't ask, but... why is the Powder Gang after you, Mr. Ringo?"

"Just Ringo." He sighed. "My caravan was on the return trip from California and heading back to the company branch in New Vegas when we got jumped. Not even a 'drop your weapons and hands up' before the bullets started flying. We put up a good fight, but there was too many of them. I took a few of the bandits down before I ran, so I figure their friends are out for revenge."

The Courier gasped. "I'm so sorry, Ringo... So, what are you going to do about them?"

The merchant chuckled. "I'm gonna lay low as long as I can, assuming the town doesn't throw me to the wolves. I've got no chance against the gang on my own."

The Courier smiled. "Maybe I can help..."

Ringo gave a small laugh. "We'd just end up sharing the same grave if it's just the two of us. Now, if some of the other people in town were also on board..." he trailed off. Her cue, she supposed.

"Let me ask some of the people in town, Ringo. Maybe we can form a, um... you know... militia! Or... or something."

"Well, then. Best start with Sunny Smiles. She's been friendlier than most around here."

XXXXXXXXXX

The Courier stepped into the Prospector Saloon to be greeted with Sunny Smiles and her loyal hound Cheyenne, relaxing by the jukebox like usual.

"Hi there. Sticking around Goodsprings for a while longer?" the unofficial sheriff greeted.

"Um... yeah. Sunny, uh... here's the thing..." She fidgeted nervously.

"Don't be nervous. You can tell me."

The Courier sighed. "Um... I'm helping Ringo take on the P-Powder Gangers. I c-could use your help, and-"

"Say no more. I'm in."

She gave a start, stunned for a moment. "J...Just like that?"

"Just like that. I have a feeling that I'm going to end up fighting those guys one way or another, so I might as well get it over with."

"Um... a-are you sure, Sunny?"

Sunny nodded. "Of course. Joe Cobb talks about leaving us alone if we hand over Ringo, but I know his type. He and his friends _will_ come after the town eventually. However, between you, me, and Ringo, we aren't exactly a force to be reckoned with."

"Um... w-what do you suggest, then?"

"A lot of people around here look up to Trudy. If you could convince Trudy to join us, some of the folks in town might decide to help out as well. I know Easy Pete's got a stock of dynamite somewhere, and Chet just got a shipment of leather armor we could borrow. Finally, I know there's a good chance we'll all end up with extra holes in us, so if Doc Mitchell could cough up some extra stimpaks, that'd be great. You talk to Chet and Trudy. I'll go talk to Easy Pete and the Doc."

The Courier smiled. "Thanks, Sunny. You've been a real great friend... especially since I only just met you yesterday." she said softly.

Sunny smiled back. "Don't mention it. Like I said, we're sisters. Now, Trudy's just at the bar. I need to step outside to talk to Easy Pete. Good luck."

The unofficial sheriff stepped around the Courier and out the door, her dog Cheyenne just a pace or two behind her. The Courier took a deep breath and made her way to the bar. She knew Trudy could be reasoned with... at least, she hoped...

XXXXXXXXXX

The Courier took a seat at the bar, calling Trudy over from another customer.

"So, you're plannin' on takin' on Joe Cobb's gang." The bartender began. "It's a big risk, but I suppose you have to do what you think is right."

The Courier nodded. Did word really spread that fast in this small farming town? "Um... w-we can't do this alone, Trudy. We could really use the help of you and the other people in town."

Trudy just crossed her arms, looking the tiny Courier up and down. "Sorry, but we don't do things that way here. If we did, we would've killed Joe Cobb by now and been done with it. We're a peaceful town, and we don't plan on that changin' anytime soon."

"But... But Trudy... If you don't unite against the Powder Gangers, they'll walk all over you! Once they get Ringo, they'll know Goodsprings is an easy target, and they'll continue to manipulate everyone in town t-to get what they want! Y-You have to show them you're a town that won't lie down and take any abuse!" She was surprised by the tears her eye was welling up.

Trudy put her hand to her chin, smiling and shaking her head at the Courier. "Well, I'll be. Who knew you had such a silver tongue? All right. I think I could help. Maybe even rally the other folk in town. But I don't want one of our own dyin' on us. We need a plan."

"W-Well... Sunny is going to ask Easy Pete for his dynamite, and Doctor Mitchell for some spare medical supplies. I was just g-going to talk to Chet about using his shipment of leather armor." the Courier explained.

"Hmm... seems solid. But what about a plan of attack? We can't let Joe Cobb get the upper hand once he arrives." Trudy mused.

"Um... Near the saloon and store are g-good places to stage an ambush... H-How about that?"

"That _does_ sound like a good plan... All right, you seem to know what you're doin', so you can count me in."

The Courier let out a held-in breath. "Th-Thank you, Trudy. You don't know how much this means to me..."

The bartender gave her a warm smile. "The way I see it, you're one of us now. Lemme have a word with a few other folks and I'll see if I can't round up some more members for this militia you're creatin'. While everyone _does_ own a gun, we could stand to be a little better equipped. The General Store probably has what we need in stock. You best go see Chet. Be warned, 'give' ain't in his vocabulary. But just show a little leg and he'll be butter in your hand."

"L-Leg?" the Courier squeaked.

The bartender's eyes glanced down to the girl's exposed collar bone. "Well... In your case, a bit more cleavage and a husky-soundin' comment on how hot the store is should do the trick."

The Courier swallowed hard, turning to leave and trying not to whimper.

XXXXXXXXXX

Chet was on break, sipping a Sunset Sarsaparilla on a chair by the entrance to his store. The door opened, and who should walk in but that tiny, busty Courier girl. She didn't seem to notice him, since he wasn't at the counter. "Over here."

She turned to see him sitting in a chair to the left of the door. He had the feeling she wanted to talk, so he patted the seat next to him. She hopped into the chair, bringing her legs together and neatly folding her hands in her lap. Chet chuckled.

"Um... what is it?" the Courier asked.

"Nothin'. Just didn't think there were still women your age out there who sat so... I dunno... ladylike. It's cute."

The Courier blushed, gazing down at her lap. He chuckled again. "Um... Ch-Chet, I need to ask you something important..."

"Sorry, little lady. I'm engaged."

The Courier gave a start, looking up to stare at his smiling face. "Um... n-no, th-that wasn't it... It's about uh... Joe Cobb and his gang. The... the town is forming a militia t-to fight against the Powder Gangers. W-We need supplies."

Chet shifted positions to cross one leg over the other and lean his arm over the backrest of his seat. "Now just hold on. I never voted to take on the Powder Gangers." he defended. He crossed his arms. "That's a thousand cap investment you're talkin' about."

The Courier folded her arms to her chest, her hands clasped just at her neck, looking up at the store clerk with a big, watery eye. "But... But if the Powder Gangers take over town, they'll ruin your business, Chet! I can't let that happen! _You_ can't let that happen! Please!"

Dammit... Forget silver tongues. All this little lady needed to do was wet her eye and she'd have any man totally around her finger. He was proof, sadly. "You proved your point. I can provide people with some leather armor and extra ammo. I just sure hope it's worth it."

The girl's face brightened. "Th-Thank you so much, Chet! You have no idea what this means to me..."

The store clerk sighed. He had to look away to resist the urge to wipe away the tear lingering on her single eye. "No problem, I guess. I'll, uh, be guarding my store while all this is going on. I have to put my business first. You understand."

To his surprise, she leaned forward and wrapped him in a big, warm hug. It was his turn to blush... He wasn't used to this kind of affection. Not to mention her softness pressing against him... Before he could respond, she jumped off the chair and ran to the door, turning to him just before she opened it. "Thanks again, Chet. You're the best. I need to go tell Sunny and Ringo the good news!"

And she was gone, while he was still caught up in his shock. Wow... that girl was... unique.

XXXXXXXXXX

As she was making her way out of the General Store, she couldn't help but notice Victor. Hmm... Securitron meant security, right? Maybe he had some weapons built in he could use. She ran up to the robot and waved him down.

"Howdy, pardner!" the robot greeted with a wave.

"Um... Victor... there's some bad men coming to town to attack. We could use a hand defending the town. That is, um, if you can help."

"Trouble with rustlers, huh?" the robot mused. "Count me in, pardner. Those varmints'll be runnin' home with their tails between their legs soon enough."

The Courier smiled a bright smile. "Thank you so much, Victor! I need to go see Ringo to let him know we've got this set up! Bye!"

She waved and spun around, running toward the gas station. Victor waved back with a call of "Happy trails!"

XXXXXXXXXX

By the time the Courier got back to the gas station, it was high noon. At least by Ringo's pocket watch. He was organizing and sorting through his Caravan deck and sipping a mug of black coffee when the door opened, the Courier stepping in.

"Ringo, Ringo!" she called as she ran up to him. He looked up to meet her gaze.

"So what's goin' on? Did Sunny agree to help us?" he asked, picking up one of the cards lain out in front of him and replacing it with another.

"Yes! Sunny's with us! And so is the whole town! We've got our own militia!" the girl said excitedly, leaning forward and placing her hands on her knees to look down at him. The wondrous view down her jumpsuit that she was giving the merchant was a nice treat, but he didn't think she was aware of it. And sadly, he was an ass man. Ringo tore his eyes away from the Courier to gather up his cards and slip them back in his rucksack.

"Well, I guess that means we're ready to go. Unless you think there's something else you can do?" he wondered, pulling himself to his feet and drinking down the last of his coffee.

"Let's do this!" the Courier exclaimed, a fire in her eye. It only made Ringo chuckle at her naive enthusiasm.

"All right. I'm ready... I hope."

"Don't worry, Ringo. We'll do fine. I know it!"

"Well, I wish I shared your burst of confidence."

The Courier shook her head, smiling up at the merchant. "Everyone is working together on this. There's no way we can lose. It's the power of teamwork, friendship, and family."

Ringo had to stop himself from bursting out laughing. That was probably the cheesiest notion he'd ever heard, especially in times like these. But he just patted her on the top of the head. "It is now, is it? Let's hope so." He walked around her to the door, only for Sunny to burst in.

"Time to look alive. The Powder Gangers are here to play."

Ringo took a step back, the door having opened on him just as he reached for the knob. "Where's Trudy and the rest?" the Courier asked in alarm.

"They're getting set up in cover, but it might not go well unless we get out there soon." the unofficial sheriff explained.

"How many are there?" Ringo asked once he had found his voice.

"At least six, Joe Cobb included. They look pretty mean."

"We better hurry, then." the merchant said, stepping past Sunny and into the sunlight.

"Wait." she grabbed his sleeve, stopping him. "Easy Pete came through with the dynamite. Here's your supply." She handed him five sticks of the explosives from a sack she was carrying, along with the same amount for the Courier behind him.

"I really hope I don't blow myself up..." The Courier mumbled nervously.

"I'll be set up near the store." Sunny continued.

"Let's hope that the gang doesn't manage to make it that far." The Courier replied.

XXXXXXXXXX

The Courier ran with Sunny and Ringo to the front of the saloon, where Trudy and some of the other folks in town were waiting with their guns. She looked out down the road to see, sure enough, six men dressed similarly to Joe Cobb, all carrying guns. The Courier dashed forward, only barely hearing Trudy's cries to stop. She ran up to the group like a bullet, already landing a flying kick to the face before one could respond. She slugged another in the jaw when they realized she was there, sending one scrambling to work his shotgun. Before he could, the Courier dashed in, elbowed him in the stomach, and pried the firearm away from him. He was immediately shot through the head by Sunny up on the hill.

"Those Goodspring hicks are gangin' up on us!"

A rain of bullets came down on the group, so the Powder Ganngers turned their attention on the people with guns. But the Courier looked to find the leader was nowhere to be found. That meant... oh no! She took off up the hill, running around behind the saloon to the makeshift shooting range behind it.

XXXXXXXXXX

Ringo jabbed at the Powder Ganger with the butt of his caravan shotgun, but Cobb jumped to the side and shot him in the leg with his .357 magnum revolver. Ringo was down on his knees right away, grunting in pain as he clutched his bleeding thigh. Cobb stood over him, smirking.

"See what happened, Ringo? You tried to fight us, and look where it led. Not even the little militia you put together could stop us. My boys'll make quick work of this town. We'll loot it for everythin' it's worth. But don't worry. We won't kill you. I'm sure the Crimson Caravan Company'll pay a nice price to get you back."

"You... bastard!" Ringo growled, teeth clenched in pain. The Powder Ganger responded by kneeing him in the face.

"Save it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go help my boys mop up the rest of the hicks in this town."

Cobb turned around, only to be met with a punch square in the face. He stumbled back, looking down to see the tiny girl from earlier at the bar standing there, her fists held up in front of her, ready to strike.

"You! Now I get it... I had a feeling Ringo couldn't convince these people to unite against us. Who are you? You're not from here, so how'd you do it?"

The girl ran over to check on Ringo, seemingly ignoring him. The merchant assured her it was just a flesh wound, so she stood up and turned to him. "It didn't take much, Mr. Cobb." she asserted, her eye narrowed in determination at him. "All it takes is some kind words and a feeling of togetherness, and you can unite even the smallest people against a greater threat."

This girl... what the hell was up with her? This determined look, these clenched fists... this wasn't the girl so close to tears from earlier, was it? Before he knew it, she was dashing toward him. Damn, she was fast! She threw an uppercut at his jaw, but he leaned back just in time to avoid it. Next was a leg sweep, but he jumped to the side and kicked her in the gut. When she doubled over in pain, he fired a shot through her shoulder, sending her onto her ass, clutching her bleeding shoulder. "Heh... Stupid bitch. You may be fast, but you can't dodge a bullet." He laughed. The Powder Ganger circled around her where she lay, panting. "You've caused me way too much trouble to just kill you, you stupid girl. You'll need to pay with more than your life..." his frown rose into a smirk. "Now that I look at you... that's some pair of tits you've got. Can't kill you right away and let those go to waste."

Her eye widened as he stepped closer, kneeling behind her and pulling her jumpsuit open. "Heh. No bra. Nice. I'm gonna enjoy this."

XXXXXXXXXX

The moment the Powder Ganger's hands were on her breasts, her voice left her. His fingers kneaded and glided over her skin, tweaking and pinching her nipples, digging his nails into her soft flesh. All her strength drained out of her, a blush coming to her face and a moan escaping her lips. And this headache...

"Damn! First time I got a girl moanin' just from rubbin' her tits. These things must be damn sensitive!"

She barely heard his voice through the fog that filled her senses. She had to admit... through the headache, through the searing pain in her shoulder, through the fear on her nerves... She couldn't deny the tingling warmth of arousal spreading through her, from her breasts, to her spine, to her head and womanhood. It was almost intoxicating.

"Heh heh. See? This is nice, isn't it?" he flicked the buds of her nipples, already erect from the prodding he gave the sensitive flesh. "Just sit back and relax. This'll be over soon."

She opened her mouth to cry out, but her voice caught in her throat. Instead, she sobbed, tears spilling out of her eye and down her cheek.

"You get away from her!"

The Powder Ganger jerked forward into her back, letting out a cry of pain. She felt Joe Cobb's cold, rough hands leave her sensitive breasts, standing up to leave her falling onto her back, panting and wheezing. Ringo had slammed the butt of his shotgun into his head, and now the Powder Ganger was turning around to face him. "I was just having fun. Guess I will have to kill you, after all."

"Courier! Get up!" the merchant yelled as the Powder Ganger wrestled him for the shotgun.

The Courier could only faintly hear Ringo's voice through the fog clouding her senses. What was the point of her getting up? This guy wasn't like his flunkies. He was stronger. Tougher. Better. Like he said, she was fast, but she couldn't outrun a bullet.

"_Speed is not everything."_

A voice entered her head... She didn't recognize it at all.

"_I know. No one can dodge a bullet."_

That was her own voice... Was... Was this one of her memories?

"_Oh? Fire at me."_

"_Really? Sweet!"_

A gunshot in her head, then the sound of a gun falling to the floor. _"Ow! What the hell, old man? Lemme go!"_

"_Did I not dodge your strike and descend upon you before you could react?"_

"_Well... yeah... but how the fuck did you do that?"_

"_Patience, little one. Speed is not how you dodge a bullet. You must watch closely. Listen carefully. Open your senses. Keep yourself ready."_

"_Shit... is this another one of your 'stay alert' rants?"_

"_You will understand some day, child. If you can insure your body is in constant motion, you can perceive your opponent's actions just as he begins them... you can dodge a bullet before it is fired. React before your opponent can act."_

"_How the fuck do I do that?"_

"_Keep on your feet. Stay moving. Watch your opponent. Never stop moving your feet, even if it's just moving in one spot. React before your opponent can act."_

"Reaction before action..." the Courier whispered to herself aloud.

XXXXXXXXXX

She pulled herself to her feet and adjusted her jumpsuit just in time for Ringo to get tossed to the ground over the Powder Ganger's shoulder. To his credit, the merchant didn't lose his grip on his shotgun. When he turned around to look, the girl with the rack was pulling herself to her feet.

"Oh, look who woke up. Ready for round two? I get bored with foreplay pretty easily, kid." Cobb said, smirking at the disheveled girl and spinning his revolver on his finger. She wiped the saliva from her mouth, bringing her fists up and hopping slowly from one leg to another. Cobb burst out laughing. "What the hell are you doing? Hopping around like a little bunny? Shit. You must've lost your mind."

He aimed his gun forward and fired. To his surprise, he missed. He fired again. Wait... was this broad... He fired a few more times, and each time she hopped to the side just as he pulled the trigger. "Okay, so you've still got some fight left in you. Whatever you're doin', it won't work. The second you-"

She charged, already upon him with blinding speed. He fired, but the gun only clicked. Shit... was he empty? With surprising strength, the girl gave an upward kick, sending the gun flying from his hand. Guess he'd have to resort to good ol' brawling. He jabbed forward, but she hopped to the side to avoid him. He gave a hook with the opposite hand, and she hopped the other way. What the hell was going on? Had she gotten faster? Was that stupid hopping from leg to leg thing actually doing something? Bringing his hands together, he swung both arms at her, but she ducked under it. Before he could respond, she jumped up and nailed him hard on the jaw with an uppercut. The Powder Ganger stumbled back, clutching his jaw and spitting out a tooth.

"Fuck! You little-"

He didn't have time to finish. She jumped and nailed him right in the chest with a kick. His vest protected him, but the force made him stumble back once more. With a sweep of her leg, she knocked his own leg out from under him. He stumbled forward, and was met with a solid kick to the shin on his other leg. The Powder Ganger let out a cry of pain, falling to his knees. The next thing he knew, an elbow struck his throat. Before he could even clutch his neck in pain, a right hook hit him in the face, then a left hook. Damn, where'd this girl get this kind of strength? He pulled himself to his feet, shaking the daze from his mind and looking up to see... she was gone!

"Over here!"

He turned around to see her standing on the fence. "What're you-"

He never got the chance to finish that thought. She jumped into the air and landed on his shoulders, wrapping her legs around his head. From the musky smell, the earlier stimulation got her wet, but that amusing thought was interrupted when he felt a searing pain in his neck. With a twist of her hips, his neck snapped, and that was the end of Joe Cobb.

XXXXXXXXXX

Ringo limped up to the Courier just as she fell to the ground along with the dead Powder Ganger. "Hey! You okay?" he shouted as he turned her over and rested her head in his lap. She looked up at him with a dreamy expression, made a pained chuckle, and... Heh. She gave him a thumbs up.

"Don't worry. I'll take you to the Doc." Ringo said, lifting her up in his arms. "That was a... what do you call it?" he began as he carried her, limping to the front of the saloon. "I've heard about it. A boxing technique. I think they use it in tennis, too. You hop from foot to foot to make sure your feet stay moving. That boosts your reaction time and helps get your blood flowing faster, right? Where the hell did you learn that?"

The Courier just gave a pained laugh. "When I find out..." she groaned. "I'll let you know."

Ringo smiled, giving a chuckle in response. He looked to see Trudy and Sunny running up. Well... looks like everything turned out okay, just like the girl said. She really was one of a kind... Where the hell did she come from, anyway?

XXXXXXXXXX

The Courier woke up in a bed... completely naked once more, she noted. She pulled the covers over herself when she heard a man clear his throat. Turning, it was Doc Mitchell.

"D-D-Doctor? Wh-Where are my-"

"It's okay, little lady." The doctor assured her. "I managed to get the bullet outta your shoulder and heal you up with a super stimpak. Beth is taking care of your clothes."

"Um... Beth?"

"Oh, you must not'a got her name. She's the one you saved from the geckos down at the water source. Chet's fiance, actually."

Her eye widened. "Chet mentioned he was engaged... you mean...?"

"Yep. He just found out. Said you could come by his store before you left town and take whatever supplies you needed, invoice or not. The whole town'd be there to see you off, too. It's been a day since Joe Cobb attacked the town."

"But... Oh! How is everyone, Doctor? Where's Ringo?" she exclaimed.

"Ringo's fine. He'll have to stay a few days in town for his leg to heal up. In fact, he wanted to see you."

She was about to ask something else when the Crimson Caravan merchant himself walked in, an obvious limp in his step.

"Ringo!" she cried with joy.

"Relax, little lady." He took a seat next to the bed. "I owe you a huge favor for this. Here... These are technically Crimson Caravan funds, but... I know they'll understand once I explain things."

He handed her... well, a small satchel filled with well over a handful of bottlecaps. She stared at it, shocked. "R-Ringo... I can't take this..."

"Of course you can." The merchant chuckled. "And that's not all. I'm not the only survivor of the Powder Ganger attack on my caravan."

"You're not?"

"Nope. Two of my pack brahmin survived. I'd like you to have one to keep. Her name's Betsy. I know she'll like you."

"But... one of your pack brahmin? But... I can't... I... I don't know what to say..."

"You don't have to say anything, Courier. I owe you my life. And it's safe to say, no one in town died in the attack, while all the Powder Gangers that attacked are dead. The town owes you a great debt. Trudy even says she owes you a few rounds on the house in the saloon. But, we know you'll be leaving soon to track down the guys who shot you in the head, so... be sure to say your goodbyes before you go."

Just then, Chet walked in, holding a bundle in his arms.

"Um... Chet?"

"Told you I'd get ya a custom outfit made. Beth sewed it up for you. Have a look."

He tossed the Courier the bundle, which she unfolded to find was a burgundy dress with short sleeves. She held it against herself to find that it would reach to her knees when worn, and also came with a white apron with pockets and a neckerchief. There was something else, to... It looked like a round, rawhide hat with a flat top and short brim.

"You'll want that to keep the sun out of your face and the heat off your head."

"But, Chet-"

"Don't say nothin'. You saved my Beth's life. That means I owe you my life just as much as she owes you her."

The Courier blushed. "Thank you, Chet..."

"Anytime, Courier." Chet told her. "Now I need to head back to the shop. Gotta get supplies ready for you when you leave."

Chet turned and left, walking past Ringo, who still stood in the doorway to the room.

"Just so you know, I'll be staying around a while longer until my leg heals up." Ringo continued. "If you ever visit New Vegas, look me up at the Crimson Caravan Company. Thanks again for all your help, mystery Courier."

While she was still in shock, he left. But right before he stepped out the door, he popped back in and cleared his throat, pointing downward. She looked, only to see she had forgotten about the blanket, and her chest was totally exposed. With a shriek, she pulled the blanket back over her body, looking to see Ringo leave with a chuckle.

XXXXXXXXXX

With a backpack and pack brahmin full of supplies, the Courier said goodbye to the people of Goodsprings. She would always be one of them, forever a member of the family. The party that saw her off as she left was full of warm smiles, while tears fell from the Courier's eye at the kind words they offered. Before she left, she made a stop by Victor's shack, to say goodbye to the robot who saved her life, like a knight made of shining armor.

"Victor!" she greeted as she approached, Betsy just behind her. She had decorated the pack brahmin's four horns each with a light blue ribbon, along with a fifth ribbon on the end of her tail.

"Howdy, pardner!" the robot greeted back. "So when do the rustlers show up?"

The Courier was taken aback at first. "Um... Victor... they were here just the other day. The fight's long over..."

"Really?" the robot replied in surprise. "I musta dosed off there for a minute. Although, that's never happened before..."

"Um... Victor... Mind if I take a look inside you for a bit? I'm just... afraid there may be data corruption in one of your memory chips... I-If you don't mind me looking, that is."

"All right. But put everything back the way ya found it!"

Blushing, she stepped around the robot and opened up the control panel on his back. And why wouldn't she blush? For a robot, she was getting very personal, wasn't she? At least, that's what she figured. Victor didn't seem to mind all that much, though. After a quick look at his memory log and pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose, she closed his compartment and scratched her head in confusion.

"Um... it looks like an override command was activated remotely, but there's no record of who sent it. Uh... Override Command Sixteen-Delta... d-does that mean anything to you, Victor?"

"Never heard of it." The robot replied. "Override? That can't be right. I really meant it when I said I'd help ya. Probably just a malfunctioning tube somewhere. Anyway, I truly am sorry I couldn't help you, pardner."

"It's okay, Victor. I, um... I just wanted to say goodbye before I left."

"You're leavin', pardner?"

The Courier looked down at her feet, her hands folded in front of her. "I'm sorry, Victor. I have to. As much as I love it here in Goodsprings, I need to track down the men who shot me. I need to find out who I am."

"It's all right. I understand, pardner. Hopefully we'll see each other again someday."

She looked up at him, smiling. "I hope so too, Victor. Thank you again for saving me."

"It was no trouble, pardner. Happy trails!"

"Thank you, Victor!"

With that, she turned and left, Betsy on her tail. With her time in Goodsprings over with, the Courier made her way south towards Primm, hoping to see if any record of her past remained at the Mojave Express. Hopefully, her time there would be less trying than her times in Goodsprings, but with just as many new friends, and possibly a new member to her growing family.

XXXXXXXXXX

Author's Notes:

**1.** I should clarify right now that the exact outfit my Courier is wearing from the game is the "Field Hand Outfit" and the "Rawhide Cowboy Hat." The glasses and ribbon are original, though.

**2.** The "Leather Backpack" that my Courier is wearing is based on a mod of the same name on the Fallout: New Vegas Nexus. For images, try looking for it there. It's my favorite backpack mod.

**3.** Chet really does sell Boxing Tape.

**4.** I'm well aware that Sunny sleeps in Trudy's house in the game. But I swear to God, I found her sleeping in one of the mobile homes in Goodsprings one time. I find that better than living with Trudy.

**5.** Yes, I know. Cats are extinct in the Fallout world due to having been an easy source of food after the bombs fell. But cats are one of the few kinds of common household pets in the world that would actually survive if humans suddenly went extinct, they're my favorite animal, and it's my fanfic, so I say: There will be cats.

**6.** Betsy was a companion cut from the final version of Fallout: New Vegas. She was intended to take up the animal companion slot like ED-E and Rex, but would not enter combat. Instead, she would be used to store objects like the player's own personal pack Brahmin. Her quest was cut fairly early in the game, as implements and dialogue of her quest were never even voiced, but she still has Companion Wheel data in the game files, and Rotface even mentions an NPC that was intended to be a part of her Companion Quest, but was also removed. There's currently a mod on the Fallout: New Vegas Nexus to add her back into the game, but last I checked, the mod is fairly incomplete and broken. It's called "If It Wasn't For Betsy" if you want to try it out on the PC version.


	3. Chapter 2: Law and Order

Disclaimer: I do not own Fallout. It belongs to Bethesda, who purchased the rights from Black Isle.

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Fallout: New Vegas

Unknown Origins

By _Cyberweasel89_

Chapter 2: Law and Order

XXXXXXXXXX

Smudges... Just... blurry smudges...

"Say, wanna go explore the old ruins?"

The voice of a boy... a young boy...

"Nah. Momma's tryin' to teach me how to cook again."

That was her own voice... but younger... about as young as the boy...

"Man, that sucks. I know how much you hate that stuff."

"Tell me 'bout it. But you've got it worse. Your old man's makin' ya hunt with him."

Her voice sounded so rough... it wasn't quiet and soft like it is now...

"Yeah. I'd much rather go check out the old holotapes at the library. That... what do they call it?"

"The knowledge of the Old World? Too bad. Only scholars look at that shit for a living. It sucks, but you were selected to be a hunter."

The blurry smudges were getting clearer... the boy in front of her was beginning to take shape...

"Yeah. I love that Old World stuff. It looked like such an amazing time. The entertainment, the government, the lifestyles. It was so..."

"Yeah, yeah. Ya don't have to go off on an awegasm on me."

"Sorry. Can't help it. Man, I wish I was born a scholar instead of a hunter. I hate how this town works."

"At least you're not cookin' and craftin' shit. Gag me!"

It looked like she was at the top of a high cliff... overlooking a sprawling prairie below her... the boy was beginning to look sharper. She could make out his outline, but still couldn't see any of his features.

"So, how about tomorrow? We can go down to the creek and skip rocks on the water." the boy suggested.

"Sounds good. Wanna sleep over at my place tonight? Ya know, like we used to do?" she heard herself suggest.

"Awesome! Can't wait!"

A muffled voice shouted something in the distance. "Looks like your old man is callin' ya." the boy said.

"Dammit. Well, see ya tonight,-" she heard herself say his name, but it was muffled, as if through a covered mouth.

"Yeah, see ya tonight."

XXXXXXXXXX

Her single eye shot open. As she sat upright on her bedroll, she looked around to find it had just been a dream. Bess was standing close by, standing upright as she slept. Her clothes, the only outfit she wore, lay folded up on her pack nearby. The only thing she was wearing was the bandages over her right eye. Yep. She was in the Mojave Wasteland.

Was... was that one of her memories? Who was that boy? It seemed like... whoever he was... they were really close... Best friends, possibly...

So... who was he? And more importantly... who was she?

Sighing, she curled back down on her bedroll and tried to drift back to sleep again. She needed her rest if they were going to reach Primm tomorrow...

XXXXXXXXXX

She knew she was approaching Primm when she saw the roller coaster in the distance. It had taken her a day, but she managed to camp out in some building called Jean Sky Diving, or something. It was a relatively easy trip. The only trouble she came across was a camp of three Powder Gangers, a small herd of geckos, and a lone bloatfly. She made quick work of them with her fists. Her footwork technique proved quite handy for dodging the Powder Gangers' bullets, much to their shock. She still didn't have the full hang of it, though. A bullet grazed her shoulder. When it was over, she used some of the healing powder Sunny had made for her, and it healed right up when she slept it off.

As she followed the highway up to Primm, she had to guide Bess through a dip in the road. The brahmin had a bit of trouble with the hill. To be honest, she was good company, though she wasn't much help in a fight. The second danger showed, she took off and stayed out of the way while the Courier took care of the problem. Still, Bess was hers, and that made her one of the family.

Finally coming to the entryway to Primm, she couldn't help but notice a flag hanging on a pole in the middle of the road with a red star and a two-headed bear on it. Maybe it was Primm's official flag?

"Hey, where the hell do you think you're goin'? Primm is off limits."

A man in a beige combat uniform and goggle helmet stopped her just as she entered town. She gave a start, fidgeting nervously under his harsh gaze. "Um... uh... I'm s-sorry... I was just heading in t-to… uh… I-Is something going on in Primm, sir?"

"Some convicts from the prison up the road have taken over the town. Everyone inside is either dead or in hiding. What's more, there're two tribes of raiders causing trouble in this area as well. You'd be safer headin' back up to Goodsprings."

The Courier swallowed hard. Convicts? Taken over town? "Um... Sh-Shouldn't someone go in there and s-save everyone?" she stammered.

"We'd love to, but they don't fall under NCR jurisdiction. Even if they did, we're in no shape to protect them."

NCR? Was that what that flag was for? And was this a soldier's uniform? "Wh-Why not?"

"We don't have the equipment to take out the convicts, and even if we _did_ we need some extra hands for backup. You should talk to Lieutenant Hayes. He's in a tent down the road. Just stay on the west side of the overpass if you don't want to get shot.

She swallowed hard once again. "Th-Thank you sir."

XXXXXXXXXX

She found where the NCR was making a camp, and was greeted by a Sergeant McGee, who directed her to one of the tents to speak to Lieutenant Hayes if she had questions. She hitched Bess to a streetlight pole outside, pausing to adjust the ribbons on the pack brahmin's four horns and tail, and slipped into the tent. A man in a beret was inside with a female soldier, sitting at a table and going over some papers. He turned to look at her when she entered, hastily putting the papers away. She only made out the words 'military orders' and that was it.

"I'm Lieutenant Hayes of the New California Republic Army, Fifth Battalion, First Company. What's your business?" he greeted, very formally.

She went to stand on the opposite side of the table he was sitting at, saluting him as best she could. "I'm just a Courier, sir, looking to report back to the Mojave Express following the failure of my delivery."

"It's okay. You don't have to salute me when you're not a soldier." he noted with a subtle smile.

She blushed and rubbed the back of her head. "Oh... S-Sorry... Um... what are you doing here camped at Primm, sir? I-If you don't mind me asking..."

The Lieutenant crossed his arms. "We were sent out here to hold back the tide of convicts from the correctional facility. As you can probably tell, we aren't doing the kind of job we could be doing."

"Why? What's wrong?" she asked with concern. He sighed in response.

"Surprisingly, the mission itself isn't the problem. The problem is with supplies. The convicts are better armed and organized than our intel initially suggested. I'm trying to get some reinforcements here, maybe some guns with some firepower, but... shit..." He sighed once more. "Things are just going slow."

"Oh... I'm sorry… Um, can you tell me anything about the convicts?"

"We don't know as much as we could. They've taken to calling themselves Powder Gangers. Mostly because they're using the explosives meant to clear boulders as weapons. They got organized faster than I would've thought, most of them at least. Thankfully the small group in town here seem to have split off from the main force, so they aren't getting anything in the way of support."

"Oh. That explains why Joe Cobb and his group were alone..." the Courier mused. Lieutenant Hayes raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh! Sorry. I dealt with a gang of Powder Gangers back at Goodsprings, sir. They were led by a man named Joe Cobb."

"Joe Cobb? Name sounds familiar. Might've been one of the convicts at the correctional facility."

"Y-Yeah, he said he came from there. Um... what can you tell me about this correctional facility?"

"Most people just call it NCRCF. That's NCR Correctional Facility. A little bit ago the convicts there staged a coup. Killed the guards that weren't able to escape... and have been ransacking the area since then."

"Oh... I'm sorry... D-Do you plan to retake the facility, or anything?"

"That's classified."

She swallowed hard, fidgeting nervously. "Um... I'm... I'm sorry..."

"It's fine." he dismissed with a wave of his hand. "I'm afraid I can't offer you any protection through town. You're on your own once you reach the other side of that overpass bridge."

"Oh... Um, I have a pack brahmin outside. Uh... Could I leave her here? Please?"

The Lieutenant nodded. "Sure. We'll look after her until you finish your business in Primm."

"Th-Thank you, sir." she said, managing a weak smile.

"Don't mention it." He didn't smile back...

XXXXXXXXXX

She waved to a soldier right by the overpass bridge, who waved back with a comment about how he hoped there'd be more gambling with this assignment. She giggled and began her way across the bridge. She stopped at the sight of the mines dotting the path. She knew they were dangerous, but they were probably there for a reason. Likely to keep the Powder Gangers from entering this side of town. So she slowly and carefully stepped around them, on tippy-toes and holding her breath the entire time.

The moment she neared the intersection, bullets whizzed past her. She turned to see two Powder Gangers firing at her from her left with 9mm pistols. Hopping from leg to leg, she strafed her way over to the closer one, diving in and giving him a sock to the gut. He stumbled, dropping his pistol, so she dove in with an uppercut to his jaw, then a palm strike to his chest. The other Powder Ganger stopped shooting, staring as she grabbed his stumbling partner's head and twisted it, leaving him crumbling to the ground. She dashed in on the second one, jumping to give him a double kick to the chest. The crunch told her that his ribs shattered, so she snapped his spine with her foot to put him out of his misery.

Normally, she wasn't one to go through the dead's pockets. But she couldn't help but notice the dynamite these guys had. She really didn't want anyone finding it and blowing themselves up, so she pocketed the six sticks in her backpack. She'd have to hand these in to the NCR. It was technically their dynamite, right?

Sighing and flexing her fingers, she made her way over to the Mojave Express building. A man in overalls lay against the wall by the door, so she hurried over to make sure he was okay. Sure enough, he was dead. But she found a piece of paper clutched in his hand. She hastily skimmed it over.

XXXXXXXXXX

Mojave Express Delivery Order (4 of 6)

INSTRUCTIONS

Deliver the package at the north entrance to the Vegas Strip, by way of Freeside. An agent of the recipient will meet you at the checkpoint, take possession of the package, and pay for the delivery. Bring the payment to Johnson Nash at the Mojave Express agency in Primm.

Bonus on completion: 250 Caps

MANIFEST

This package contains:

Two (2) Oversized Dice, composed of fuzzy material

CONTRACT PENALTIES

You are an authorized agent of the Mojave Express Package until the delivery is complete and payment has been processed, contractually obligated to complete this transaction and materially responsible for any malfeasance or loss. Failure to deliver to the proper recipient may result in forfeiture of your advance and bonus, criminal charges, and/or pursuit by mercenary reclamation teams. The Mojave Express is not responsible for any injury or loss of life you experience as a result of said reclamation efforts.

XXXXXXXXXX

This man... he was a courier, like her. This note was just like the one she had, only instead of a platinum poker chip, it was some oversized fuzzy dice. Judging by the content of his pockets, he didn't have the dice anymore. Could he have been killed after he delivered the package? Or did his killer take the dice? She figured she'd find more answers inside the building. She scanned the note into her Pip-Boy for later and placed it back in the man's hand.

Inside she found no one. There was a radio on the counter still playing music next to a broken robot, while what looked like two casseroles sat on plates on the table, half-eaten. Whatever happened, whoever lived here abandoned their home in a hurry. If they were in hiding with the other people in town, there were two major buildings they could hide in. She'd start with the one just across the street, where the two Powder Gangers had been loitering.

XXXXXXXXXX

"I don't know what it was brought you to Primm, youngster, but you might wanna rethink your plans. Town's gone to hell."

She gave a start when an older man addressed her the moment she entered the building. He was idly puffing a cigarette, so she decided she'd keep a fair distance away. The smell of those fumes gave her such a headache... "Wh-Who are you?" she stammered.

"Johnson Nash's my name. Husband to Ruby Nash. Lived in Primm goin' on eight years now, thick and thin. I'm a trader primarily, for what it's worth with things like they are. I also run the local Mojave Express outpost." he explained. His tone was noticeably friendly. He tossed his cigarette butt into a nearby garbage bin, so she chanced to move closer, recoiling only when he pulled his gun out and started cleaning it.

"Um... Oh! You're Johnson Nash? I'm a Courier with the Mojave Express! I'm so glad I finally found you!"

"Well, I don't got any work right now, sorry to say."

"No, I mean... I... I lost a package I was supposed to deliver, sir. And my memories in the process..."

"Amnesia, huh? Shoot, that's a problem. I'll tell ya whatever I can. Ya have a delivery order you can show me?"

She nodded excitedly, hurriedly setting her backpack down and pulling out the delivery order she was found with. "C-Can you tell me anything about this job, sir?" she asked, handing it to him.

Nash pulled out some reading glasses from his pocket and read the note over. "Oh, so you're talkin' about one of _them_ packages. That job had strange written all over it. But we couldn't turn down the caps."

She tilted her head to the side a bit. "Strange? What do you mean?"

"That cowboy robot had us hire six couriers. Each was carryin' somethin' a little different. A pair of dice, a chess piece, that kind of stuff." The man explained. "Last word I had from the office, it looked like payment had been received for the other five jobs. Guess it was just your chip that didn't make it."

"Um... cowboy robot? L-Like the one over there?" she gestured to the Protectron wandering around further in the building. Nash shook his head.

"Nope. Different fella. Bigger. Had himself a face on a screen, and he talked more like you or me. What happened to that package, anyway?"

"Um... I'm sorry... A man in a checkered suit stole my package, along with some men in leather and bandanas. D-Did they pass through here, maybe?"

"Well, now that you mention it, a few nights back one of the townies was out scavenging for supplies. He said he saw a fella with a daisy suit come through with some of them Great Khan misfits. They was talkin' about a chip."

"O-One of those men shot me in the head... and took my past from me." she recalled with a shudder. "I... I need to know where they were headed. Please."

"Well, for that, your best bet is goin' to be talkin' to Deputy Beagle. Since they came to town he was keepin' a good bit of notes on 'em, and he was slinkin' around Bison Steve when your pretty-boy friend came through. He may have heard where they were goin'."

"Okay... Th-Thank you, sir."

"No problem. Strangest thing, though..."

"What? Wh-What is it?"

"Naw, it's nothin'." The man dismissed.

"Please. If it might help me figure out who I am, I need to know, Mr. Nash." she pleaded.

"Well... First deadbeat we hired to do the job cancelled." Nash explained bitterly. "Hope a storm from the Divide skins him alive. Well, that's where you came in."

"He... He cancelled?"

"Yeah, got this look when he saw you next down on the Courier list. His expression turned right around, asked me if your name was for real. I said, sure as lack of rain, you were still kickin'. Then he turned down the job, just like that. I asked if he was sure, it was good money. No, let 'Courier Six' carry the package, that's what he said. Like the Mojave'd sort you out or somethin'. Then he just up and walked out."

"R-Really? H-He might know who I am! D-Do you know who he was? Where he went?" she exclaimed.

"Easy there, youngster. Calm down. I got no idea. Sounds like you two had a history for him to act like that. And turn down the money, too. Hope he didn't see any trouble in that package of yours. Maybe he thought your name was bad luck. Not for me to say."

"Oh... Well, hopefully, I'll run into him. Uh, do you know my name, by the way?"

"I'm afraid I don't remember, little lady. The order was made in a hurry, so all we got was your signature. I can show it to ya, but Primm's streets ain't safe right now."

"Primm... this town seems like it has trouble, sir. Wh-What happened?"

The man sighed. "Primm's gone to hell. Been tough around here for a good while now. Worse since them thugs kidnapped our deputy. It started with that breakout from the prison up the road. First there was just a few thugs rollin' through town, but then they got organized. Now they call themselves Powder Gangsters or somethin', and run around throwin' dynamite and shootin' people. Little while ago a good chunk of them left whatever kind of organization they got up there to squeeze all the food and drink out of us they could."

"Um... You said Powder Gangers kidnapped Primm's deputy?" she gasped.

"Well, you can call Beagle a deputy so long as you don't harbor too high an opinion of the word. Boy was 'bout as useful as tits on a radscorpion." She crossed her arms over her breasts self-consciously, but was subtle about it. "Only qualification he ever had was to be brother to the wife of the sheriff. Still, I s'pose he don't deserve what's befell him. We woulda considered payin' the ransom... if we had caps to spare."

"Oh... Um... is there anything I can do to help the town, sir?"

"Right now Beagle is the closest Primm's got to any organized law, but he's still stuck up in Bison Steve. First thing I'd say is get his sorry butt outta there."

She tilted her head to the side a bit. "Um... Bison Steve?"

"It's an old hotel and casino here in town. Old Laurie used to rent out rooms there, but she took off months ago. Across the way from the Vikki and Vance. The other old casino. Can't miss it."

"Um... Vikki and Vance... that's this casino, right?" she asked.

"That's where we are, yeah. This here little casino brought some cash and bodies into the town before them Powder Gangsters came in. They can't rush us without eating a good bit a hot lead, be we _are_ in a kinda box canyon. Guess this is as fitting a place for that as any. I reckon if they thought hard enough about it, they'd realize they got more bodies than we have bullets, but for now we're safe enough in here."

"Um... W-Would it be okay if I rescued your deputy for you?"

Nash looked surprised at the request. She didn't feel like it was all that shocking... was it? These people needed help, right? "I reckon you could, if you feel up to it. But ya could use some help."

"Um... help?"

"There's a beat up old robot on the counter of my store."

"Oh! I saw that when I popped in there. Wh-Where did it come from?"

"A courier dropped it off a couple months back. I got it working for a little while, but the darn thing pooped out. I haven't been able to get it up and runnin' again. I was hopin' to use it for some courier work, but that ain't gonna happen."

"Um... why? What's wrong with it?" she asked. She was quite curious about this mysterious robot.

"Hell if I know. I don't think it's serious, but my tinkerin' days are long gone." Nash dismissed.

"Um... d-do you mind if I take a look at it?"

"I was gonna suggest that. If you can get it workin' again, it's yours. From what I can tell, it's got reinforced armor and a right powerful laser weapon, so it might be of help against them Powder Gangsters."

"Okay. Thank you. I'll go check on it right now. Um... Hopefully I'll be back with your deputy!"

She turned around and ran back outside, living Nash shaking his head and chuckling.

XXXXXXXXXX

For the second time, she entered the Nash residence, this time examining the robot on the counter closely. A look inside, and she found... Wow. While she had been able to fix Trudy's radio, the inner mechanisms of a robot were above her skills and knowledge. She paced around the room trying to figure out what to do, when she noticed two magazines on the bedside table. One was about mechanical repair, called 'Fixin' Things'. The other was about computer programming, titled 'Programmer's Digest". She hoped Mr. Nash wouldn't mind if she took a peek at them. A quick flip through the pages of both magazines showed detailed diagrams and explanations of mechanics and electronics, including those commonly found in robots. She ran back to the broken bot and took a look inside it, comparing it to the information in the magazines. Hmmm... From the least she could tell with her limited knowledge, some of the robot's servos and gyroscopes needed to be recalibrated and replaced. She might be able to fix it with the proper parts. Looking around, she saw two piles of scrap metal on the counter next to the robot along with a wrench. That should help. But she needed some bits of wiring and a sensor module. She stepped outside.

XXXXXXXXXX

It seemed the old dumpsters all over town were a treasure trove of electronic junk. She not only found some more bits of scrap metal, but the wiring she needed and not one, but two sensor modules. She hurried back to the Mojave Express with the parts in her arms. Grabbing a screwdriver, she disassembled the two modules and used the components along with the metal and wiring to replace the missing parts. Smiling at her work, she closed the robot's compartment and booted it up. It hummed to life, hovering just over her head, to her surprise. A floating robot? Without the jet of a Mr. Handy? It faced her and made some beeping sounds.

"Um... Hello?" she asked it, unsure of what to say. The robot made some whirring noises in response. "Um... I fixed you. I hope you don't mind. Uh, do you have a name?" More beeps and whirrs. Hm. Looks like this was a robot that wasn't made to talk like most others. From the looks of it, it was incredibly weathered, but no serious damage. It had reinforced armor, so it looked durable enough for combat. Wait... there was something stuck to its backside. The Courier gestured the robot towards her with her finger, and it surprisingly complied. She turned it around to look at what was on it's back. Hmmm... A bumper sticker and a license plate? The bumper sticker read 'My child is an HONOR STUDENT at Roosevelt Academy'. The license plate was even stranger. It looked to be from Illinois. But that didn't make much sense. Illinois was far, far to the northeast of here. Did this robot really come all the way from there? The plate read '2ED-E59', but the numbers were much more faded than the letters, so it looked more like 'ED-E'.

"Hmmm... Eee-dee-eee? Umm... I know! I'll call you Edy! I-Is that alright with you?"

The robot made some energetic beeping and whirring sounds in response. The Courier smiled.

"Great! How about you travel with me and Bess? We can keep each other company."

The robot again energetically beeped and whirred, making the Courier giggle. "Okay, Edy. I hope you're ready for some fighting. We need to go rescue Primm's deputy from some Powder Gangers. Okay?"

A single beep in response. She took that as a yes. With that, the pair made their way across the street to the Bison Steve Hotel.

XXXXXXXXXX

The moment she entered the Bison Steve Hotel through the front doors, Edy started playing off some kind of music. A Powder Ganger jumped up from behind some overturned tables used as makeshift cover. Seemed they were prepared for someone to try and play hero. Edy shot his pistol out of his hand with her laser, then a few well-placed shots to his torso and head, and he was dead. The Courier released a sigh of relief. She only hoped Edy hadn't alerted the other gang members to their presence.

She crouched down low and snuck around along the perimeter of the room, finding only a locked door and a password protected computer. There was little of value in the entrance room, but the dead guard had some bottlecaps, NCR money, and stimpaks on him. Again, she wasn't one to steal from the dead, but if she didn't take it now it might fall into the wrong hands again.

She crept down the hall, being careful not to make a sound. Despite the darkness of the hall, she didn't dare turn on her Pip-Boy light, lest it make any enemies notice her. She made a left through an open door, and found what must have been a gift shop. The coast was clear, so she took a look around. It was mostly littered with empty Nuka-Cola bottles, empty Sunset Sarsaparilla bottles, toy cars, and teddy bears. She felt bad seeing the poor plushies lying about, dirty and stepped on. But she had a mission to do. She grabbed a few bottle caps off the counter, and even pocketed a few bills of Old World money. She wasn't sure why. She just felt like she should... even though the urge came with a small throb of pain in her cranium.

She left the gift shop and came upon an elevator down a small hall to the right. It was broken, though, and she sure didn't have the know-how to fix it. She'd have to take the long way around. Next was a long room lined with chairs. A door at the end and to the left was labeled 'maintenance', but it was locked. She turned and continued down the hall as it turned right, and was surprised to find a Powder Ganger standing there, facing the other way! She crept up behind him, sprung up, grabbed him by the head, and twisted his neck before he could call for help. In his pockets were more NCR money and some dynamite, which she quickly confiscated.

Around the corner was a Nuka-Cola vending machine and an Eat-a-Tronic food dispenser. She found two bottles of the delicious nectar in the machine, which she pocketed for later. While she was fiddling to get the Eat-a-Tronic open to see if it at least had some bubblegum, she heard Edy's music start playing. Whirling around, she saw her faithful robot shoot down a Powder Ganger who had been returning from another area of the building. Relieved that Edy had her back, she searched him for yet more NCR money and dynamite. How much of this stuff did they have? Returning to the Eat-a-Tronic, it had only two things in it. A tin of Mentats and a pack of delicious bubblegum. She stuffed both in her backpack.

To her right was a closed door and ahead was the other hall that the Powder Ganger came out of. She decided to head through the door, just in case more were coming soon. It turned out to be a stairwell. Hmmm... they were probably holding him upstairs somewhere. Best investigate.

XXXXXXXXXX

Well, that was interesting. The second floor turned out to be just another prowling ground for the Powder Gangers. She and Edy ended up having to kill five of them up there. She killed the first two unseen with some well-timed neck twists, but as misfortune would have it, one of the convicts rounded the corner before she could duck back into the other hallways. Her discovery only led to a bullet and laser storm as the remaining three ganged up on her and her faithful robot. She didn't find the deputy up there, but the spoils were worth it. She found a lot of NCR money, a surprising amount of bottlecaps, a few stimpaks, some various chems, and now her backpack was stuffed full of dynamite to return to Lieutenant Hayes. She did find something unique, though. Two things, actually.

First, she found a ransom note. At first she thought it was written by the Powder Gangers about the deputy, but from what she could tell, it was recorded Pre-War. It told a man named Mr. Peterson to leave some unmarked bills at the Bison Steve Hotel if he wanted his wife back. Huh. At least that proved to her that there's always been bad people around, before and after the Great War.

Second, she found a key on one of the Powder Gangers. It opened a gun cabinet up on the third floor in a wrecked room. She really didn't have any room for the shotgun and ammunition inside, though. Had to make sure this dynamite got back safely to the NCR.

Coming back down stairs, she made her way, finally, to the hall where Edy killed the Powder Ganger that snuck up on her. It led to a large, open room. Probably once a dining hall, but it was significantly redecorated by the convicts taking up residence there. Two of the Powder Gangers were chatting in front of a flaming barrel. Maybe she could sneak in and kill one while Edy got the other. She signaled to the robot, though she wasn't sure if she understood her meaning. The moment she stepped into the light of the fire, she wouldn't have the shadows to hide in, so she could only hope the two convicts were engrossed in their conversation. She listened closely.

"So that deputy, right?"

"Yeah, the one we got in the kitchen?"

"I know, right? He's such a total pussy. I didn't even have to torture him to make him cry. All I had to do was threaten him. Heh."

"I dunno why the boss wants to hold him for ransom. I don't think the townies care much about a lawman as useless as him."

"I know, right? The boss is crazy. I'm thinkin' of joinin' back up with the gang at the NCRCF."

"What about Joe Cobb? Didn't he run off to start his own gang?"

"Yeah, but Cobb's a moron. He'll just end up gettin' done in by some people he thought were weak when they wasn't."

"Some people he underestimated, ya mean?"

"Yeah, I guess we're getting' kinda low on that."

"Huh?"

"We're under stim-ated. Isn't that what you said?"

"Idiot! Not stimpaks! Just... ugh... Why do you have to-"

Now was her chance. She crept up behind the one on the right, lunged up, and snapped his neck. The second one stared for a moment before he came to his senses and pulled out his pistol. He turned to Edy when she opened fire on him. What she didn't expect was a third to enter from the nearby kitchen. He pulled out his shotgun and started firing at the Courier. She took to hopping from leg to leg, nimbly strafing to and fro to avoid the shots and close in on the Powder Ganger. The look on his face was one of surprise when she nailed an open-palm strike to his chest. He stumbled back, dropping his shotgun, so she swept his right leg out from under him and whacked him in the forehead with her own head. She had to admit, it hurt, but it was worth trying. When he was still gripping his head, she jumped in and kicked him in the chest. His ribs shattered, weakened by the earlier palm strike, and with a final stomp he was dead.

Whew. Looks like Edy finished up with the third Powder Ganger. She took a look at what they were carrying and found some more NCR dollars and dynamite, along with some caps as well. Rest assured, she'd be turning in the first two to Lieutenant Hayes. This dynamite belonged to the NCR no doubt, while the money was likely from ill-gotten means. The syringe of Psycho on one of them, though, she'd keep for herself. She didn't plan on using it, but some chems on hand might prove useful at some point.

Stepping into the kitchen, she found a man in leather armor tied up on the ground. She walked up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.

"I don't suppose you came here to rescue me? I'd cross my fingers, but my hands are numb."

"Um... A-Are you Deputy Beagle, sir?" she asked.

"Why yes I am. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm in a bit of a predicament here. I'd be most appreciative if you set me free."

She blushed at how polite and eloquent he was. At least, compared to the other citizens of Primm. The Powder Gangers may have made him out to be a useless scaredy-cat, but at least he had manners. "Of course. But, um... how'd you end up being a hostage, Deputy?"

"I must say it's been the low point of my career in law enforcement. The Powder Gangers stole into town at night and murdered my sister and her husband, the sheriff, in bed, while I was sleeping in the office. I watched them for a bit, waitin' for the right moment to pounce and arrest the lot of them, taking careful notes as I watched. To my dismay, they found me while I waited in the shadows and brought me here."

"I'm so sorry, Deputy... um... While you were observing, did you happen to see some Great Khans and a man in a checkered suit pass through town?"

He smiled. She found it an oddly charming smile. "My good lady... I believe I may have some information that would prove useful. If you would just untie my hands I'd be more than happy to share what information I have with you."

"Of course, Deputy, sir. Thank you so much!"

She set to work untying his legs and wrists. She had to admit, the knots were tight. The Powder Gangers obviously intended not to release him any time soon. But she managed to finally get them off with a chef knife from the nearby counter. Beagle stood up and flexed his wrists, like they were sore.

"Oh, that's just marvelous. I think I'll be makin' my way outside now. The air's a little close in here."

"W-Wait!"

He stopped just as he began to walk off, turning to look at her.

"Th-There may be more Powder Gangers in the building. Y-You've been through a lot, so I know you're in no shape to fight, but if we go together, I can keep you safe! Please! I promised the people of Primm I'd get you back safely!"

He gave her that charming smile again. "Oh, that's so gracious of you to offer to bodyguard me like that. But I'd only slow you down. See you outside."

The Courier gazed down at the ground, a sad look on her face. "So... it's true... he's a coward..." she whispered to herself.

The Deputy walked over to the maintenance door and opened it, only to come face-to-face with a Powder Ganger... wielding an incinerator!

"You! Who let you out? And why are all of my men dead?"

"Uhhh..." Beagle froze in fear. The leader of the Powder Ganger group aimed his incinerator at him.

"Deputy! No! Watch out!"

Throwing off her backpack, she charged for him, surprised at her own speed, yet only partly conscious of what she was doing. She tackled him out of the way just as the flames began to spew from the weapon's nozzle. The next thing she felt was scorching heat... then her world went black.

XXXXXXXXXX

She woke up to find something warm shoved into her mouth. Startled, she sat up to see Johnson Nash and a woman his age standing over her.

"Chew and swallow before ya talk, sweetie." the woman suggested.

She did so. Whatever it was... was sharp. Very sharp. And a bit smokey in taste. Ooo... now her mouth felt numb, almost like an after-taste. "Wh-Who are you?"

"I'm Ruby Nash. Pleased to make your acquaintance. My husband and I are Primm long-timers. He fancies himself a trader, and I know my way around a kitchen." The woman explained, gesturing to her husband.

"Kitchen? You mean... like cooking? Wh-What was that you just fed me?"

"Well, my specialty is a radscorpion venom casserole. It's more appetizing than it sounds. The venom has a sharp, smokey flavor, and it numbs your mouth so fierce you'll forget you ever had a tongue! It's perfectly safe, long as you don't have sores in your mouth for the venom to find your blood. 'Cause that'll kill ya dead."

Her eye went wide, but it only made the old woman laugh. "Eat some more, sweetie! Ya need your strength!"

"Wait! Where am I? Where's Edy? What happened to Deputy Beagle?" Pause. Checking... Yep. Drafty. "And where are my clothes?" She pulled the sheet over her nude body, blushing furiously.

Ruby and her husband looked at each other, startled. "You don't remember, sweetie?" Mrs. Nash asked. The girl shook her head, shivering from embarrassment.

"From what we heard from the Deputy, you took a blast from an incinerator to save him." Mr. Nash explained. "Your robot killed the leader of the Convicts, but it was Deputy Beagle who carried ya outside in his arms. The moment he stepped outside the Bison Steven Hotel, he was confronted by the three Powder Gangers who'd been patrollin' around the roller coaster. They'd come to check out the commotion from the buildin'. Your robot came into the Vikki and Vance and led us outside, where we watched the Deputy as he took down each of the Powder Gangers with one hand, cradlin' you in his other arm."

"I've known Beagle a long time, and I can honestly say he's always been one to run from danger." Ruby added. "But I'd never seen him face such overwhelming odds so fiercely. We haven't got much out of him aside from how you saved his life. He's been kinda shellshocked about it."

The Courier looked down at her lap, a distant look in her eye. "So... the Deputy carried me out of there? And he fought off the remaining Powder Gangers to get me to safety?" The elderly couple nodded. "S-So why am I na-... wh-where are my clothes?"

"They were horribly burned. Enid's been patchin' it back together over the last three days." Mr. Nash explained. "It would've been worse, but the deputy got you to us in a hurry. Used his own stimpaks on you, too.

She felt a blush come to her cheeks. Had a coward... really done all that just to save her? "Um... c-can I see the Deputy? P-Please?"

"Not yet, sweetie." Mrs. Nash scolded. "You've been unconscious for three whole days. We need to get some food in ya and give ya a good scrub."

Well... the last time she had home cooking was with Sunny back in Goodsprings... so swallowing hard, she nodded, letting Ruby Nash drop a plate of the venomous dish in her lap along with a fork.

Ruby's husband tapped her on the shoulder. "You got that old robot up and runnin' again?" he asked in surprise. "How is it workin' out for you?"

She swallowed her bite and looked up at Mr. Nash. "Um... yeah. Her name's Edy." The Courier explained, slightly blushing. He was surprised. That was a compliment, right?

"Edy huh? His names not Eddie?"

"No, _her_ name is Edy. It just... um... feels that way... t-to me..."

"Hmm... Well, if you say so. She's yours now anyway."

She ate another bite of the casserole. "Um... may I ask where Edy came from?"

"Like I said earlier, some courier dropped the bag a' bolts off at my store. Dunno where he got it."

"Oh... um... Any idea what I should do with her? Aside from let her travel with me?"

"Not a bit. I imagine there might be some people around curious about that kinda technology. She's been guardin' the door to this room ever since."

"Oh... um... where am I right now, by the way?"

"Well, you, Edy, and Deputy Beagle ended up cleanin' out the whole Bison Steve Hotel. So you're there right now. We've been cleanin' it up over the past three days."

"R-Really? What about reinforcements arriving?"

Mr. Nash chuckled. "None of the Gangsters escaped your wrath, youngster. The only trouble we can expect is a new group of them arrivin' to push us around."

He winked, making the Courier giggle.

XXXXXXXXXX

There was a knock on the door. Ruby Nash set the sponge back in the bucket of soap and water to go open it a crack. The Courier looked on expectantly.

"Um... My apologies, Mrs. Nash, but... I was wonderin' if I could see the good lady a moment."

That was the Deputy's voice. She felt her heart skip a beat. "I'm sorry, but I'm bathing her right now. Come back lat-"

"I-It's okay, Mrs. Nash! P-Please, send him in." the Courier called to the woman. She turned to send the Courier an 'are you sure?' look, but she just smiled and nodded, a small pink blush coming to her pale, freckled cheeks. "And um... p-please, I'd like to talk to him alone for a while, Mrs. Nash."

XXXXXXXXXX

Well... perhaps being held hostage wasn't the low point of his law enforcement career, after all. Getting an innocent girl hurt was probably even lower. A girl with amnesia who only wanted to save a town gone to hell. Who, he should add, got hurt saving him from a situation that only sprung up because of his cowardice.

Those were his thoughts for the last three days. He just sat in the dining hall of the Bison Steve, trying to figure out what to do with himself. Primm needed a new sheriff. After seeing him fight earlier, the folks in town had been suggesting him as the new sheriff. But he knew he couldn't step up to that... not after what happened because of him. Not after... everything... that happened.

But more importantly, he had to talk to that Courier some time. She seemed to be a girl who could get things done, so maybe she'd know what to do about a new sheriff. But more importantly... he had to thank her for saving his life... and apologize for getting her hurt...

Sighing, he downed the last of his beer and made his way to the second floor. He knew the Courier's room by heart. He'd spent plenty of time standing in front of it, afraid to knock and see the girl. But now, he had the liquid courage to go through with this. He knocked, and Ruby Nash opened the door a crack to gaze out at him.

"Um... My apologies, Mrs. Nash, but... I was wonderin' if I could see the good lady a moment."

The elderly woman shook her head, her face stoic. "I'm sorry, but I'm bathing her right now. Come back lat-"

"I-It's okay, Mrs. Nash! P-Please, send him in."

That was the Courier's voice. The fact that she wanted to see him made his hopes skyrocket... but he also felt a deep pit in his stomach... what if she'd be mad at him? The very thought made him sweat.

Ruby Nash turned around to look behind her a few moments. The elderly woman sighed, opened the door and allowed him in. To his surprise, she left and shut the door.

"Um... Hi, Deputy Beagle."

She sat on the bed, the covers pulled over her nude form. Blushing, he nodded his head. "Ma'am."

Well, Mrs. Nash wasn't kidding about bathing her... A bucket of soapy water with a sponge floating in it was sitting next to the bed along with a chair. And the Courier's arm looked shiny wet.

"P-Please. Um... sit down with me?"

Her request was spoken in the tiniest of voices, but he could tell she had far more confidence about this than him. Despite his nerves, he complied, taking a seat on the chair by the bed.

"Um... I'm glad you came..."

His eyes zeroed in on the side of her breasts... she was holding the bedsheet against her impressive bosom, but she wasn't doing a very good job. He realized he was staring and looked away, clearing his throat. "My apologies, my good lady. I was thinkin' and not payin' attention to where my eyes wandered."

"I-It's okay." The soft words brought his gaze back, but this time to her face. A soft pink blush illuminated her freckle-laced cheeks. "You... You were just admiring my body. The body you saved..."

For a moment his eyes widened and his jaw almost dropped, but he shook his head and brought himself to his senses. "I just wanted to say... Many thanks, my good lady, for savin' my life. And I must apologize for the way you got hurt because of m-"

A soft, dainty finger on his lips silenced him. "Shh. Don't worry about it. I only untied you and pushed you away from an incinerator. You carried me out of a building and took on three men to protect me. Let's just say we're even... Okay?"

Her voice, far too soft for a harsh world like this, was almost intoxicating. But what happened next absolutely shocked him...

She kissed him. It wasn't a hard kiss or a passionate one, just her touching her lips to his cheek. It was accompanied with the tiniest little pop of her puckered lips, a sound that just drove him crazy from the subtle sweetness of it. When she pulled away, she was looking up at him, blushing and giving just the sweetest little smile he'd ever seen. "Deputy... Mrs. Nash hadn't finished washing me. Could you please take over for her?"

He didn't trust his voice. She turned to face away from him and dropped the sheet away from her breasts. Dumbly, he grabbed the sponge and tenderly washed her small, shapely back. He had to admit... this girl was beautiful. From the subtle curve of her hips, to her frizzy red hair, to her pale, freckled skin. It seemed the stimpaks from his emergency stash really helped her heal. She didn't have a single burn scar on her. With her back completely exposed, he could see the beginning of her rear, complete with an enticing view of the crevice just as it began. Her arms were thin with dainty hands, befitting her petite, let just ever-so-slightly plump body. In a stupor, he scrubbed all of these, pausing every so often to dip the sponge back in the bucket of water. As he washed her side, his finger tapped the side of her breast. He could tell that's what happened. It was far softer than the other parts of her body, and the sharp intake of breath she gave made it evident the flesh was sensitive. He... He couldn't do this. Beagle turned around to face the opposite way, dropping the sponge back in the bucket.

"D...Deputy?" the good lady questioned. He could've sworn he heard disappointment in her voice, but... that couldn't be.

"Listen. I... This is all my fault. My sister and the sheriff died because I fell asleep on the job. Then I got captured and taken hostage when they found my hidin' place. I've been a coward all my life... I'm not fit to be a deputy. I'm resigning. Maybe we can program Primm Slim to be the new sheri-"

His words stopped in his tracks as two delicate arms wrapped around his shoulders. With the tight gray T-shirt he was wearing, he could feel her breasts pressed up against his back as she pulled him into the warmest embrace he'd likely ever feel. He didn't turn around. Not only did he not want the hug to end, but he knew a gentleman didn't look when a young lady was in a state of undress behind him. But... she turned him around for him. She looked up into his eyes and gave him another soft kiss, this time on the lips. Despite his shock, he placed his large, calloused hands over her bare back. When she pulled away, she was smiling, albeit with a heavy, deep red blush from her cheeks to her collarbone.

"Deputy... I believe a man can change. And... you changed the moment you decided my life was worth more than your own. Just keep that state of mind... and you can protect this town from any threat. You can be the protector of these people. Maybe not a sheriff, not yet... but a deputy for now. I know it."

To his credit, he actually held out a few moments before the tears fell from his eyes. The sobs wracked him, but... they felt good. It felt good to cry for a reason other than fear. The Courier who saved his life pulled him close, holding his head to her bosom as she pat his back. He sobbed into her cleavage, and she just held him close, patting his back and cooing sweet words of encouragement.

As beautiful as this woman was... as much as she opened herself to him, and he opened himself to her... they didn't have sex that night. He didn't want sex. He just wanted some comfort from another human being... which she was happy to give, albeit without a stitch of clothing on.

XXXXXXXXXX

She woke up the next morning feeling refreshed, happy... and warm. Warm and fuzzy... When she turned, she saw Deputy Beagle was asleep in a chair against the wall. She smiled and blushed. He had stayed up all night guarding her. A light giggle escaped her lips. When she looked to the foot of the bed, an outfit lay folded there. She crawled out from under the covers and took a look at it. It seemed this Enid had mended her outfit back to just the way it was. She didn't even notice any patches or new seams.

A shifting near the corner brought her attention to Deputy Beagle. She scooted over to the edge of the bed in front of him, and sat with her legs hanging off the end, swinging idly. With her arms propping her up as she leaned back... she knew she was on full display to him. But... for some reason... she didn't mind. She doubted she was over her sense of feminine modesty... But it just felt... okay... to be this vulnerable in front of the Deputy. Especially since he looked only at her face, despite the obvious urge to gaze down at her body.

"It's okay. I... d-don't mind if you admire... um... my body." she told him, a deep blush creeping to her face. He only chuckled.

"As much as I would very much like to oblige that offer, I promised you information."

"I-It's okay... you don't have to worry about-"

"No... no. You've waited four days, even though I could've easily told you before you freed me. The Great Khans, and the man in the checkered suit... I spotted them passin' through town while I was skulkin' around."

"No! But you were-"

"No. I was not performing any recon of any sort. I was not gatherin' information. I was runnin' and hidin'. But I still managed to overhear what those Great Khans and your friend in the suit talked about. They mentioned a delivery they had taken from a courier. Obviously, that was you. They said they'd be headin' through Nipton to Novac to meet a contact there."

"Novac?"

"To the East. If you want to get there faster, I'd recommend taking Primm Pass. It takes shorter, but it's more dangerous. However, I'm sure it isn't anything you and Edy can't handle."

She reached forward to place a delicate hand on his lap. "Thank you..." she breathed, her emerald green eye big and watery. He had to suppress the urge to hug her.

"Now, the next order of business... Primm still has no law."

"But what about-"

"I'm not ready to be sheriff. And I can't be a deputy without a sheriff. We'll need one if some ruffians decide to threaten us again."

"Okay... So... what kind of person do we need?"

"Well... It should be someone brave, like you." She blushed, a small smile spreading across her face. He smiled back. "But it has to be someone who can settle down here and watch over us. I heard the Powder Gangers talkin' about a man in the prison named Meyers who has some experience as a sheriff. He may be a good choice."

"Okay. But how do we get into the NCRCF to talk to him?"

"Obviously, we need to dress up as Powder Gangers and walk right in."

"Um... I have a Powder Ganger uniform I picked up in Goodsprings, but... we?"

"Yes. I'm goin' with you. I can't let a good lady like you go there alone."

"Deputy... I knew you could change..." Her eye was big and watery again.

"Hold on. There's a catch. The Powder Gangers are composed exclusively of prisoners from the NCRCF. Like most prisons from before the Great War, the NCRCF is a male-only prison. So there are no female Powder Gangers."

"So... that means..."

"Not to worry. Ruby Nash can help bind your chest with bandages, while I can provide a hat that will effectively hide your hair without drawin' suspicion. As long as you keep your head down, no one will see your pretty face and realize you're a good lady. If you must speak, try to deepen your voice. If they question it, I'll defend you. Act casual, let me do the talkin', and we should be able to get Meyers out of there."

She was quiet for a long time. At first, he thought she was going to say no, but...

"I have one request... i-if you don't mind."

"Of course, my good lady. Anything."

"I don't want Mrs. Nash to help me bind my breasts..."

"Hmm... then I suppose we could have Enid alter a Powder Ganger uniform to look baggier, maybe by-"

"I want you to do it for me."

Beagle gave a start, turning to stare at her blushing and smiling face with wide-eyed shock on his own face. "Good lord... You may be the death of me... my naked goddess."

The Courier blushed from cheeks to collarbone, covering her mouth with her hands and giving a giggle so light and uplifting that even Deputy Beagle laughed.

XXXXXXXXXX

So here they were. Just the two of them. She had left Edy back in town. Didn't want her to look out of place among the Powder Gangers.

For what it was worth, the Deputy and Mrs. Nash had tried their best to get her looking as boy-like as possible. She wore the NCRCF prisoner uniform of black pants, brown boots, white shirt, and blue jacket, but she was also wearing the bulletproof vest. Despite binding her chest so tight she couldn't breathe, her breasts were, embarrassingly so, simply too large to bind to totally flat. But the vest certainly helped hide the bulge of her bosom. She owed Joe Cobb for the vest. The entire outfit really, since it had been his. She saved it after the events of Goodsprings, keeping it in Bess's pack. It had been thoroughly washed, but the main reason for her discomfort was the pants. She hated wearing them... She needed a skirt or dress, or nothing else. She had injected herself with some Med-X prescribed as follow-up medication by Doctor Mitchell to dull the pain in her head just from wearing the pants. The advanced morphine was certainly making wearing the pants bearable...

The Deputy was wearing the same outfit she was, except minus the bulletproof vest. Just in case anyone recognized him, on the off chance they had been to Primm and came back to the NCRCF, he was wearing a hockey mask. It seemed to be fairly common for Powder Gangers to wear them, so hopefully he wouldn't look too out of place. To hide her messy, frizzy red locks, the Deputy had given her a brimmed leather hat with a hood-like attachment, effectively hiding her entire head from view save for her face. Luckily she could wear it with her eye bandages and glasses, but it was a bit hot. The Deputy said it was worn by storm chasers in the Old World. She didn't see why anyone would want to chase storms...

"Okay, my good lady. Try to let me do the talking. If you must talk, please speak in a lower register."

"Um... Deputy, sir... I hate to say it, but your style of speaking... it's... very polite. And... eloquent." she blushed at the thought. "You should try speaking in a rougher tone."

"Hm... I suppose I shall have to give it a try. Allow me to practice on the Ganger at the gate."

The gate slid open, and the pair walked in. The door ahead led to the visitor's area. The Powder Ganger standing at the door looked them up and down. The Courier tried to keep her head down so he wouldn't notice her feminine face.

"Okay, I know I wasn't servin' no time with no girl, or I'd a heard about it. You come to play with the Powder Gangers?"

No! This guy already knew she was a girl! She had to fight back the urge to cry. They were dead! She knew it!

"It's okay." Beagle urged. She looked up to see him talking to the Powder Ganger, not her. "She's just my bitch. Brought her here for some fun, if ya catch my drift."

Wow. He really could roughen his speech style. But... She blushed. Was this their cover? Her as his... girlfriend?

"I dunno. I don't recognize your voice, bud." The man at the entrance narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"Oh. I've been off at the camp to the North, raiding caravans on the I-15. Just got back after pickin' this bitch up stowed away in a wagon. Figured I'd let the boys have some fun with her."

"Hmmm... So why is she dressed like one of us?"

She swallowed hard. But Beagle just laughed. "Oh, c'mon. What's hotter than a hot bitch dressed like one of us? Besides, didn't want her to get shot on sight."

"Hm... Good point. But I'm not sure about lettin' you in with her. Depends on if you can make it worth my time. A hundred caps sounds about right."

Uh oh. Niether of them brought anything with them... No, no, no!

"Hold on... Maybe caps won't suffice."

"What'd ya have in mind?" Beagle asked.

"You were hopin' the boys'd have some fun with her, right? So here's the toll for her to get in. All her clothes. Off. Now. All of them. She goes in naked, she comes out naked. How's that sound?"

The Courier felt her whole body freeze, heart and mind included. Did... did he... did he really s-say that? H-He couldn't be serious, right? No, no, no, no, no! This can't be happening! She was about to burst into tears when a hand was placed on her shoulder. She looked up through a teary eye at Deputy Beagle. He was... smiling at her. She could tell by his eyes, even with the mask.

"Sounds good to me. But that's the deal, right now. No changin' it."

"Fine, fine. Whatever."

To her surprise, he picked her up in his arms, carrying her outside and behind a boulder. "Hey! What gives? I don't get to see her strip?"

"That wasn't part of the deal, bro." The Powder Ganger just grumbled obscenities in response.

He set her down behind the rock and leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Don't worry. I won't let you go through this on your own. Take a deep breath... and trust me. My naked goddess."

Just those three words... reminded her of last night. Alone with him, completely naked... and for the first time in her life, comfortable with her body. She took a deep breath and relaxed into Deputy Beagle's arms. First he pulled the hat off her, followed by the vest. He carefully slipped the jacket off her shoulders, bending low to slip her boots off. The way he unbuttoned the shirt... it was painstakingly slow, but... she felt a warmth in her loins building. He slipped the shirt off of her, then unwrapped her bindings. Her breasts happily bounced free of their prison, the warm Mojave desert breeze feeling... oddly good. Finally, he lowered her pants, and to her surprise, she actually lifted her legs one at a time for him. He walked off, and she felt... suddenly very cold. And scared. Alone...

"What?"

"I assume ya wanted to keep 'em, right bro?"

"Oh, yeah, sure. I'll hang onto 'em."

Then he was back, slipping a jacket over her. He lifted her up in his arms, nimbly maneuvering her petite form onto his back. When the haze lifted from her mind, they were standing in front of the man at the door again.

"Shit. What gives, man? Ya can't do that."

"Ya said she goes in and out without her own clothes. That's _my_ jacket she's wearin', not her own. It also wasn't part a the deal for ya to get to see her."

"Dammit... me and my mouth. Whatever. I guess you earned your way in with that clever trick a yours."

She found herself sailing past the grumbling guard as he walked in with her on his back. In this position... the jacket was more than covering her from the back... while her front was firmly hidden against the Deputy's back. Blushing, she giggled and whispered a "Thank you, my knight." into his ear. She didn't see it, but she knew he was smiling.

XXXXXXXXXX

The moment they stepped in, all eyes were upon them. The Courier just kept telling herself that they didn't know she was totally nude. Deputy Beagle turned to the Powder Ganger standing by the entrance. "Hey. Lookin' for Meyers." The Powder Ganger gestured to a man sitting at a table in the room with a black cowboy hat. He walked up to him, setting the Courier on the ground.

"Hm? Didn't know anyone would willingly walk into this place. Not unless they were lookin' for trouble. What's your story? And where's that girl's clothes?"

She blushed from cheek to collarbones, pulling the jacket closer around her exposed body.

"I'm afraid it was the only way we could get in here to speak with you."

"Speak with me? For what?"

"Hold on. A few questions first, Meyers. First... Tell me, were you here the night of the coup?"

The Courier decided to let Deputy Beagle do all the talking. With so many eyes on her, almost completely naked... she was afraid if she tried to speak, she'd only squeak.

"I understand that Cooke was behind it all. I kept my head down the whole time. Didn't want any part of it. I stuck around, figuring the NCR would show up and put things back the way they were. No sense in makin' myself look guilty, right?" He sounded a bit distressed just at the mere memory.

"Cooke? Who's Cooke?"

"Some kind of anti-NCR rebel." He lowered his voice, like he didn't want to be overheard. "Some people just don't like being pushed around or told what to do."

"Is he still here, leading the gangers?"

"He went north with some of the other guys. Didn't say where. Didn't say why. All I know is he's got some kinda score to settle with the NCR."

"So he's not in charge of the Powder Gangers? Then who is?"

"Right now Eddie and his boys run the place. They've got the guns _and_ the dynamite, so they call the shots."

These people... staring at her... wearing so little... She was terrified... and yet...

"What did you do before you ended up incarcerated?"

"I was a sheriff, believe it or not, for a small town far to the west of here. Short version is that sometimes justice is a little slow, and I helped speed it up one too many times. I'm not sorry for anythin' I did, but I _will_ do the time. Fair enough trade, if you ask me."

She was terrified, and yet... her loins were sopping wet... was she actually... how could she be... why was her body betraying her?

"So then... If there was a coup, why are you still here?"

"I'm not quite sure the kind of greeting NCR troopers will give an escaped con like myself. Figure it's better to stay put for now."

"P-Please! Become Primm's new sheriff!"

Uh oh... did she just shout that out loud?

"Well, assuming an NCR pardon comes with the job, and it had better, I'll also need to be able to do things my own way. Due process has its place, but sometimes it's just a waste a time. I'll need to know that I'm not going to end up right back in prison."

"D-Does that mean you'll take the law into your own hands?" she squeaked. Her knees were shaking... Why was her body reacting like this?

"When I need to, yes."

"You have a deal."

She looked up to the Deputy. He looked down at her and smiled, placing a hand over her shoulders.

"All right, then. Guess I'll just make a quiet exit. No need for a goodbye party or anything."

Meyers got up and casually strode out the door. Deputy Beagle lowered himself so the Courier could get on his back, which she accepted with a blush. But as they were turning to leave, they saw a man with an eyepatch and Mohawk striding up to them.

"You two. My buddy Eddie wants to see you. Now."

The Courier swallowed hard. She was already shivering... and as much as she hated to admit it, all this stimulation was making the back of Beagle's NCRCF shirt wet... how embarrassing...

"Sorry, bro, we were just leavin'." The Deputy explained, turning to leave. The eyepatched man grabbed him roughly by the shoulder to stop him.

"It's not bro. It's Scrambler. And I said... Eddie. Wants. To see you."

"Wh-Why do they call you Scrambler?" Uh oh... why did she have to choose now to find her voice?

"Because I scramble people up so good, they don't know what part goes where when I'm done. Now move it. You don't wanna keep Eddie waitin'."

The Courier swallowed hard once again. Hiking her up to a more supportive position, the Deputy followed after the Powder Ganger. She hoped he couldn't tell that she was trembling... Which was only partly from fear... She was far too embarrassed to admit the other reason, even to herself...

XXXXXXXXXX

The pair were led out of the visitor's center and into the yard, where the Powder Ganger known as Scrambler made a direct path for the only two-story building in the yard that wasn't a watch tower. Inside, he led them through a wall of iron bars, past an infirmary, up some stairs, across a hole in the floor with a board laid over it, and finally into what seemed to be the warden's office. Deputy Beagle set the Courier down next to him in the middle of the room, between the desk and the door. The painting on the wall, of some unknown man, was childishly scribbled on with immature graffiti. On the desk was a computer and a ham radio, which the man seated there was idly tuning. Scrambler took a position leaning against the wall behind Eddie and to his left, but not before pulling the Courier's jacket, and only real article of clothing, off her body. Feeling a draft and very exposed, she clamped one arm tightly over her breasts, the other down to cover her nethers. Sadly, a single arm wasn't enough to cover a bust her size, she noted with embarrassment. Now, the only real things she had on were her Pip-Boy, the bandages over her right eye, and her glasses. Not even any shoes... Everyone else was fully clothed... She'd never felt more exposed before in her life... and yet... it was oddly... exciting?

"You brought us here, Eddie. What do you require?" Deputy Beagle asked harshly. He pulled the hockey mask off his face to properly scowl at the Powder Ganger.

"Dawes said he let somebody in. So you goin' to give me a reason not to kill you and throw your body back outside?"

"We just came to speak with Meyers, Eddie. Just let us leave and you won't see us ever again." Beagle placed a hand on her shoulder. The Courier couldn't help but feel a bit more at ease at his touch... even if it were just a little.

"Fine. But first... who are you? What're your names?"

"I'm Beagle. Deputy Beagle. She's just a Courier."

The Powder Ganger suppressed a laugh. "That wussy deputy from Primm? You sure seem confident for someone I'd heard so many stories about."

"I've just found something to be brave for."

"Oh? And what's that?"

"The people I've sworn to protect. All it took was a kind, selfless soul to show me the error of my ways."

She looked up at the Deputy and managed a small smile, despite her trembling. He smiled back.

"Hm. Cute. Okay, I'll have Scrambler escort you out. But I want you to do a simple favor for me."

"And what would that be?"

"Well, you're takin' a walk down to Primm, so I figure I can hit you up instead of kill you. The NCR hasn't raised hell over our breakout, and I want to find out why. They're up to somethin', I can feel it."

"Fine. What do you want us to look for in Primm?"

"I know the NCR has troops near Primm, so talk to the locals and find out if any of those troops are going to be comin' our way."

"Fine. Now may we go? My Courier friend is cold."

Eddie looked her up and down. The smirk on his face and the raised eyebrow told her... he could tell.

"Shit. She's not cold. She's fuckin' horny as all hell." The Courier whimpered. The Deputy seemed at a loss for words. "I'd read stories about this in Cat's Paw. Women gettin' off on exhibitionism."

"Cat's Paw? Exhibitionism?" She felt grateful the Deputy had the words to say what she couldn't.

"The first... is a gentleman's magazine, filled with pictures and stories to satisfy a man when he's lonely. The second... is when you get off on being seen naked by people who are fully clothed."

"No. She isn't like that." Beagle demanded. She looked up at him, her eye big and watery. 'Thank you' she said with that emerald orb.

"Oh, really? Then explain what that stuff is runnin' down her leg. Or that strong smell comin' off her. Maybe you should just stick your finger-"

Beagle jumped forward and slammed his hands on the desk, sending a few pencils rolling to the floor. "Goddammit, Eddie! Stop now and allow us to depart, or we _will_ tell the NCR that you're vulnerable for a full assault!"

The Powder Ganger scoffed. "Pfft. Fine. Scrambler, escort them out."

To her horror, she was not given Beagle's jacket back. He had to piggyback her all the way across the compound with her bare back and rear exposed to every Powder Ganger they passed. The hoots, hollers, and cat calls made her face so red she swore steam was coming out of her ears...

XXXXXXXXXX

They stepped out of the visitor's center, the Courier a nervous wreck. Deputy Beagle glanced around a bit before glaring at the guard. "Where are my friend's clothes?"

The guard was picking his teeth with a toothpick, clearly acting like he didn't notice them. "After foolin' me like that? You're not getting those back. She can _streak_ all the way back to town for all I care."

The Deputy loosed one arm, leaving her with only half support. But it was worth it when he slugged the Powder Ganger right in the face. He returned his arm to her and hiked her up on his back, turning and leaving the convict in a crumpled mess on the ground. The Courier giggled a bit and whispered another 'thank you, my knight' into his ear. His response was to shift her a bit so her breasts rubbed against the fabric of his shirt. She nearly purred.

XXXXXXXXXX

For the first time, the Courier was thankful the streets of Primm were empty. No one was there to stare at her naked backside as the Deputy carried her through town. It was when they entered the Bison Steve Hotel that she buried her face into the back of his neck, blushing a deep crimson as everyone turned to stare. Thankfully, Beagle was quick about getting her up to her room. He went to set her on the bed, but she clung tightly to him.

"My good lady? Are you alright?" he questioned with concern.

She was panting heavily. Why wouldn't she? All those people... staring at her... n-naked... It was... embarrassing, but... so, so very invigorating! She'd... really never felt so alive before...

"D-D-Deputy..." she panted. "I... I need you right now."

He turned her around in his arms so she clung to his chest. "You need me? What for? Are you hurt?"

"N-No... I... I need..." She didn't trust her words at the moment. So she took action. She kissed him. Not the sweet little kisses from before. She attacked his mouth, slipping her tongue in to explore and wrestle with his own. He was wide-eyed with shock, but once he came to his senses, he carefully lowered her onto the bed. She pulled away to catch her breath. "P-Please, Deputy. I... I need this right now... I need all of you. C-Can you help me? P-Please?"

The Deputy blushed and smiled. "My good lady... I am more than happy to-"

He didn't finish. She shoved his face into her breasts, so he took his cue and began to slather her sensitive bosom with kisses and licks. Loud moans escaped her. She did nothing to hold them in. Her mind was clouded, being driven only by the heat in her loins. She spread her legs, baring herself for the Deputy. He looked unsure, but she merely nodded, silently mouthing the word 'please'. He didn't hesitate. He attempted to go slow so he wouldn't hurt her, but she urged him on. She needed it. She needed it fast, hard, and rough. On that night, she was surprised to find out... she wasn't a virgin. What kind of life had she led before her memories left her?

XXXXXXXXXX

First thing in the morning, the Courier and Deputy Beagle made their way to the NCR camp across the overpass bridge. Inside Lieutenant Hayes's tent, it seemed he was gone. But some papers on the table in the middle of the tent caught the Courier's eye. She had the Deputy stand watch while she looked the document over.

XXXXXXXXXX

_Lieutenant Hayes,_

_You and your men are ordered to secure the area around Primm in preparation for the assault on the prison. Recon indicates that the Powder Gangers are lax in their defenses and should quickly fall to a surprise assault. In the unlikely event that the attack fails, you are to hold position near Primm and await further instructions._

_Major Gerard_

XXXXXXXXXX

"You. What are you doing in here?"

She looked up to see the Lieutenant walk in. Beagle was right behind him, his face apologetic. She was nervous, but she attempted to stand tall with confidence. "You're planning to attack the prison, aren't you?"

"Military operations are classified information." was Hayes's official response.

"C-Classified or not... I..." she swallowed hard. "I want to help in the attack!"

Both the Deputy and the Lieutenant looked surprised. Hayes regained his composure first. "Some Powder Gangers did you wrong, is that it? Get in line."

"I... I can handle myself in a fight! Please!"

"It's true, Hayes. She happens to be the best unarmed fighter I've ever seen."

The Lieutenant brought his hand to his chin in thought, looking the Courier up and down. "Hmm... Well, if you say you're capable enough. And manpower hasn't been easy to come by... All right. Fine by me if you want to put yourself in harm's way. Hand me your wrist. I'll mark the staging area on your Pip-Boy's map. Speak to Sergeant Lee there tonight. I'll radio ahead to let him know you're coming."

She did so. The Lieutenant pressed a few buttons, and there was a marker on her map near the southern side of the prison's outer wall, up on the hill. "One more thing to discuss, Lieutenant, sir." Hayes raised an eyebrow. "Primm needs a new sheriff. Meyers at the NCRCF is willing and capable for the job, but he won't do it without a pardon from the NCR. Can you do it?"

The Lieutenant sighed. "Really? An official pardon? Even after the coup? Why would you want a Powder Ganger in any official capacity?"

"H-His sentence was almost up, Lieutenant, sir. And he doesn't have any affiliation with the Powder Gangers."

Hayes sighed. "Fine, fine. I guess that's okay. Besides, having someone in Primm who owes the NCR a favor would be useful. But I don't have the authority to issue one. I'll have to radio to Major Knight at the Mojave Outpost for permission."

The Courier nodded. "Thank you, Lieutenant, sir." She turned to Deputy Beagle. "Deputy, stay here with Edy in case anyone comes to attack while I'm assaulting the prison, please."

"But won't you need Edy for the prison assault tonight, my good lady?"

"No. I can handle it on my own, with the other soldiers. You need her more than I do right now."

Beagle smiled. "As you wish, my good lady." She smiled back.

XXXXXXXXXX

The Courier arrived at the southern side of the NCRCF to find a man in an NCR soldier uniform with a bandoleer, staked out near the top of the bordering hill. He turned to look at her as she ran up.

"I'm Sergeant Lee. Lieutenant Hayes radioed ahead to say you were on the way."

"Um... I'm the Courier, Sergeant, sir." she greeted, a little out of breath.

"Noted. Are you sure you can fight, though? I don't see a gun anywhere on you. Unless... you're hiding it."

She shifted uncomfortably when his gaze zeroed in on the large bulges showing through the chest of her dress and apron. "Uh... R-Rest assured, I can fight, Sergeant, sir. Now... wh-what's the situation inside?"

The Sergeant brought his eyes back to her own with seamless transition. "We've got surprise on our side, and that's about it. Once we blow a gap in the fence, we've got to pour on the fire and keep them disorganized. Our goal is to take out their leader, some assbag named Eddie. With the ringleader gone, the rest will fold. That's all the briefing you're going to get. Let's go."

An explosion sounded in the distance, just as Sergeant Lee was pulling his varmint rifle off his back and turning to charge in. The Courier ran to the top of the hill to see three plumes of smoke at three different areas of the compound walls, one just down the hill in front of them. Without another moment's notice, she charged in, quickly overtaking the Sergeant's position, and dove through the hole in the fence into the NCRCF. She rolled hitting the ground, springing up and kicking a Powder Ganger in the back, snapping his spine. She stomped his head to end his misery. It seemed six other NCR soldiers were marching into the compound, shooting every Powder Ganger inside with assault rifles and service rifles. Three each from the other two breaches in the wall. She couldn't handle Scrambler and Eddie alone. Her and these soldiers would have to clean up the yard first.

Charging forward through a storm of bullets, the Courier planted her feet in front of the group of soldiers, pointing to one of the watchtowers. "Take out the ones in the watchtowers from here! I'll make sure none in the yard can reach you!" she ordered.

The soldiers didn't waste time asking why a tiny, busty civilian was barking orders to them. When they heard a good idea, they followed it. The six took aim, just as two Powder Gangers were approaching with chef knives. The Courier charged one, a flying kick straight to his chest shattering his ribs. She should've made sure he was dead, but incapacitated was good enough. She had to move to the second one, fast. It seemed his attention was on the soldiers, so she silently ran in behind him and landed three straight punches to his spine. He crumpled to the ground, but her celebration was short lived. The two cell block barracks opened, a combined five Powder Gangers pouring out of them. Apparently, these ones had time to grab their guns, wielding varmint rifles, 9mm pistols, and .357 magnum revolvers. She had to get their attention before they started firing on the soldiers. Dashing in, she nailed one right in the face with a kick, knocking him to the ground. She was about to set on one of the other ones, but a bullet pierced his forehead before she could connect her first punch. Turning, she saw the soldiers had eliminated the ones in the watchtowers, and could now turn their attention to the ones in the yard. Good. This gave her time to repay a debt...

XXXXXXXXXX

Damn, there was a lot of noise comin' in from the yard. Were the boys havin' target practice? And what was up with those explosions? He wanted to go join in the fun, but guarding the front door was an important job. At least, that's what Eddie told him.

"Excuse me."

He turned around to see some girl in a dress standing there. "What the hell are you doin' here?"

"You don't remember me?" she asked, surprised.

"Oh, wait... Hey, yeah! That girl dressed in one of our uniforms yesterday. Here to party with us again? Heh?" Wait... but she came from inside... didn't she?

"You..." her fists clenched, trembling as she seemed to be fighting back tears. "You made me strip naked!" she cried.

"Oh, that, huh? Why? Did it get you off, girly?"

For a moment... he could've sworn... A look passed through her eye that sent chills down his spine...

He didn't have time to wonder about it long. With a scream, her leg sprung up and nailed him right in the crotch. The pain to his nuts was short-lived, as it was soon replaced by his pelvis shattering into pieces. He crumpled to the ground, nearly crying from the pain. As his vision blurred and he looked up at her staring down at him with the fiercest of expressions, he was sure of it... The look on her face was like a completely different person... and looking straight into her stone cold green eye made every single one of his hairs stand on end before he passed out from the pain.

XXXXXXXXXX

Eddie wasn't stupid. He heard the explosion, and it came from three different sides. He sent one of his numerous bodyguards to investigate. He didn't return. But the thin, crumbling walls did little to hide the sound of gunfire. Shit... this was it. The NCR was attacking.

"The NCR's here, boys! Scrambler, get ready to jump whoever walks through that door! The rest of you, take your positions all along the first and second floors! We'll jump the bastards the second they walk in!"

His men followed his instructions wordlessly. More gunfire sounded outside, but it soon died down. No one entered the administration building yet. The waiting between the silence and the entry was excruciating, but he was a patient man. Eventually, he heard the door burst open, followed by the sound of gunfire. This was it! "This is it, boys! Get ready!" he barked.

Gunfire soon sounded off just outside his office, on the second floor. Which was weird, since there was still gunfire on the first floor. How'd they get past his boys? He heard each of his boys shout out in pain one by one until something sent the guard just outside the door crumpling against the wall, shaded by the shadow of the broken light overheard. The figure stepped inside the office without a moment's notice. Shit! It was that exhibitionist girly from earlier! Luckily, Scrambler knew when to strike. He pounced, grabbing the girl's arms. She struggled, but her tiny arms were no match for his most trusted bodyguard's strength. Confident that the girl had been subdued, he walked up with his hands folded behind his back.

"So, the little exhibitionist brought the NCR, huh?" he teased. The look of fear on her face was priceless. He'd enjoy this. "Well, my guess is that we've already lost. Your soldiers just need to finish up my boys on the first floor. But until then... you won't be gettin' any backup, will you?" The fear on her face turned to terror. Oh, this was too rich. "I'll be dead either way, but I can at least have some fun with you and kill you before the NCR shows up."

Without any warning, he reached forward and tore the front of her apron and dress off. Eddie licked his lips as her massive tits bounced free of their confines. "Damn, these things are huge! Can't let 'em go to waste, now can I? Right, Scrambler?" The eyepatched man holding the girl chuckled, but abruptly stopped. "Hey, what's wrong, bro?"

He was interrupted by a firm kick to his jaw. As he stumbled back, the girl slipped out of Scrambler's grasp, the large man falling to the ground with his hands over his crotch. Looking at the girl, he could've sworn... her single emerald eye looked like the eye of a psychotic killer... but the look on her face. She was smirking at him... but in a sexy way! And shit, her tits were still hangin' out of her torn dress!

"You like these, Mr. Eddie, sir?" she asked, her voice low and husky, grasping them for emphasis. His hand fell from his sore jaw, which dropped along with it. "If you'd like, you can have them. Really."

She was on him now, pushing him onto the desk and climbing atop him to straddle his waist. His manhood was already swelling against the cup of his armored vest. "Just relax... and let it all hang out, Mr. Eddie, sir." she purred into his ear. He swallowed hard as she leaned forward to hover her rack over his face. Without warning, his face was buried in it. His member stood at attention, blood rushing to his head as the soft flesh enveloped him. It was... heavenly... At least... until he started having trouble breathing. His cries of discomfort were only muffled by the soft flesh smothering his face. He reached for her to try and pry her off of him, but her legs and arms were gripped firmly to him like a bear trap. His head felt light, his arms and legs started to tingle... But he had to admit, he passed out experiencing the greatest pleasure he had ever felt, submerged in a divine marshmallow hell...

XXXXXXXXXX

Sergeant Lee charged upstairs with his soldiers, his varmint rifle at the ready. Looked like the civilian had taken out the guards on the second floor, who were crumpled on the floor and groaning in pain. He gestured for his men to finish them off, making his way to the office, where he knew Eddie was. Inside, he found Scrambler curled up on the floor, his hands clutching his crotch. The Sergeant finished him off himself with a shot through the head. But looking, he found Eddie passed out on the desk, with the civilian lying on her back on the floor, her breasts totally exposed. What the hell had happened here? He checked the civilian, and she was still conscious.

"Kid? You okay?"

The girl let out a sob, which worried him for a moment. "I have... such a... h-headache..." she groaned. He just smiled and shook his head. Whoever this girl was, she managed to do most of the work for them. Even left Eddie alive for interrogation. Now they could see if he knew where Cooke was. He'd have to give this Courier girl plenty of praise in his report. Every member of the NCR in this region would know what she did for them, he'd make sure of it.

XXXXXXXXXX

She awoke with a start. She looked under the covers to find that she was completely naked... again. Blushing, she scanned her eye across the dark room to see Edy floating nearby and... awww! Deputy Beagle was asleep in the chair near her bed. Getting up from the covers, she tiptoed over to where he sat and climbed into his lap, curling up right in his arms and resting her head against his chest. She fell asleep smiling contentedly.

XXXXXXXXXX

That morning, the Courier awoke to find the entire town of Primm abuzz with life. Preparations were being made to re-open the Vikki and Vance Casino, fix the town back up after the Powder Ganger's reign, and finishing restoring the Bison Steve Hotel. Luckily, it seemed Old Laurie had returned upon hearing word of Primm's rebirth, and agreed to take over the running of the hotel once again. After a short breakfast, the Courier took to walking the streets, watching as the citizens of Primm ran to and fro. But it was one particular citizen who caught her attention. What was his name? Gilbert? She was pretty sure. He was jumping up and down in front of the Vikki and Vance Casino, trying to get her attention.

"Um... Hi. Uh... Gilbert, right?"

"Indeed. But we've got some problems."

"What is it? M-Maybe I can help..."

"That's what I was hoping. You see, just when we were in the process of fixing the casino back up, some NCR military deserters walked in and forced all the workers out with threats of violence. We don't want dead soldiers on this town's conscience, even if they _are_ deserters. You seem to be a mistress of negotiation, so we were hoping you could talk them into leaving peacefully, madame."

"Um... I'll try to see what I can do. Um... You didn't have that accent earlier, did you?"

"Oh, crap. Didn't think ya'd notice. Just thought it'd fit my new job as the casino's doorman, ya know?"

"Um... yeah. Just be yourself, okay? I'll go have a talk with these soldiers."

"Thanks. We owe ya again, don't we?"

"Not really." She giggled. "Consider this a freebie."

"How very nice of you, madame!" he bowed theatrically.

Sighing and rolling her eye, the Courier stepped into the building and was soon greeted by a woman in a tank top and a green beret, surrounded by three men in leather vests and jackets. "What are you doing here? This casino is _ours_, punk."

"Um... A-Are you the deserters?"

"I like to think that we're Prisoners Of War that managed to escape before capture. I don't know how long it'll be before the Legion crosses the river, but sure as fuck I don't want to be wearing an NCR uniform when they get here."

The woman seemed hostile, at least verbally. She already felt her knees shaking. "Um... y-you can't hide out in this casino a-and threaten people. P-Primm has law again, y-you know."

"Fuck, we lose again. We heard Primm was ripe for the picking, so figured we could come here and shakedown some of the suckers. We weren't expecting a sheriff here. We're just trying to put as many miles between us and the NCR as we can. We don't want to be anywhere _near_ New Vegas when the Legion cross the river."

"S-So you've resorted to robbing and raiding to get by?" she gasped.

The woman, apparently the ringleader of the four, crossed her arms. "Our luck has gone south since we lost all of our money gambling in Vegas. We didn't go AWOL from duty to become raiders. But we've seen what the Legion does to people that survive their battles. We wanted to be gone before the fighting starts. And we heard there may be some safety up in New Canaan."

"Um... I-If things are so hopeless, why not just turn yourselves in?"

"No fucking way. We're deserters now. The NCR isn't gonna throw us a ticker-tape parade for going home."

"I-Is deserting that bad a crime in the NCR?"

"Yeah. If we see the NCR, they'll be waiting for us with a bullet to the brain pan. So what are we supposed to do? Just run?"

The Courier brought her hand to her chin in thought. "Hmmm... You can't keep running and hiding forever, can you? So how about hiding in plain sight?"

"What in fuck are you talking about?"

She smiled. "You're all ex-soldiers, right? Well... This casino we're in right now, it's re-opening. But what they don't have yet is bouncers. I may not look it, but... I have pull. I can arrange for the head of the Vikki and Vance Casino to hire you as bouncers, erase your previous identities, and allow you total safety as new people with new jobs."

"Really? You'd do that for us?"

She nodded. "Yeah. But... you have to keep your noses clean. If I find out you're causing any trouble, I'll report your presence to the NCR myself."

The woman sighed. "Shit... you drive a hard bargain, punk. But it's better than running for the rest of our lives. You've got a deal."

"Great! Talk to Mr. Hendricks. Just head across the street to the Bison Steve Hotel and ask for him. Just say that the Courier sent you."

"Huh. I guess we'll have to start thinkin' about new names. I've always liked Layla. C'mon, boys. Time for a job interview." She turned and left with the other three deserters, who began idle discussions with their apparent leader.

As they left, the Courier took a moment to look around. She hadn't had much chance to look at the Vikki and Vance Casino. She walked over to the Protectron wandering around, dressed in a cowboy hat and cowboy boots. She'd heard he'd been serving as the museum curator and tour guide for over two hundred years, so he'd likely be the best bet.

"Um... Hi."

"Howdy pardner! Welcome to the Vikki and Vance Casino and Museum!" the Protectron greeted.

"Um... you're the curator, right? O-Of the museum, I mean."

"Primm Slim at your service. Authentic cowpoke and official spokesbot of the Vikki and Vance Casino and Museum. Yeehaw!"

"Oh? Tell me about the casino. A-And museum, of course."

"The Vikki and Vance Casino and Museum is Primm's Primm-eer attraction and resort destination. That's all there is to it. Yeehaw!"

"Oh? Who were Vikki and Vance, Mr. Slim?"

"Where have you been, pardner? Hiding under a rock?" she looked down sadly, but looked back up when the Protectron continued. "Vikki and Vance were this nation's fourth or maybe fifth most infamous celebrity outlaw couple ever, that's who they was! Primm Slim here can tell you the whole story, if you can spare a minute to hear the tale."

"Please. I'd love to hear the whole story, Mr. Slim."

"Yahoo! I ain't had a chance to tell their tale in a mess a years." She smiled. "First things first. Any bosh you've heard about Vikki and Vance being copycats ain't nothing but ill-tempered slander. Fact is, they begun their crime spree two days before Bonnie and Clyde robbed their first bank. So who was copying who? Now, true. Vikki and Vance didn't exactly cut a wide swath of murder and bank robbery across the central U.S., like Bonnie and Clyde did. It was more like a narrow swath of shoplifting, check-cashing fraud, and gas pump driveoffs. But crime is crime! They drove reckless, too. Having lived by the gun... well, Vance owned one anyway... it was only fitting that the duo of desperados would die by the gun. Perhaps it was fate itself that accidentally drove them into a crossfire between police and a gang of bank robbers in Plano, Texas. Or maybe they just didn't notice until it was too late. It's been said that Vikki would have tried to cash a _bad_ check in that bank, had she lived. We'll never know for sure. All we know is that the crossfire tore the car and both occupants to pieces, and the police issued an official apology. You can put your eyes on the genuine Death Car just over yonder, and there's Vance's submachine gun in the case next to it."

"Wow, that sounds amazing, Mr. Slim. Do you know anything about the rest of town?"

"Of course! Old Primm Slim _loves_ to spin a yarn. Primm is a thriving resort community located in Clark County, Nevada, right along Interstate Fifteen. Whether you can't wait 'til Vegas to try your luck, or want to hit one last jackpot before you leave Nevada, Primm's your place! The town's Primm-eer attraction is the world-famous Vikki and Vance Casino and Museum. So you came to the right place, pardner."

"Really? That's good, I just came from the Bison Steve Hotel across the street. Is this place really better, Mr. Slim?"

The robot cleared his throat. "The Bison Steve is one of Primm's less-impressive casino hotels. I'd steer clear of that place, pardner, if I were you. Rumor is, the dealers over there cheat, and that rickety roller-coaster's liable to fall down any day 'cause it wasn't built to code."

She giggled. "Oh, don't worry, Mr. Slim. I'm only using the hotel though. I'm not a fan of thrill rides, so... if I plan to gamble or look at the museum, I'll come here, okay?"

"Yeehaw! Sounds like a plan, pardner. Why don't you have a look at some of the relics of Vikki and Vance's crime spree?"

"Sure. Thanks, Mr. Slim."

"Happy trails, pardner."

The Courier stepped over to a pair of naked female mannequins with a plaque between them, brushing off some of the dust so she could read it aloud. "Vikki's Outfits. These replica outfits show just how conscious Vikki was of the styles of the period. Vikki was well known for her sense of fashion, and her fixation on expensive clothing was thought to be one of the reasons the pair chose a life of crime."

Hm... No clothes on the mannequins. They must not have lasted over the years. She stepped around the corner of the display to a display of two naked male mannequins, blowing some of the dust off the plaque so she could read it. "Vance's Outfits. These mannequins display replicas of some of the clothing that was found in the trunk of Vikki and Vance's death car. Vance didn't share Vikki's sense of fashion, and chose to dress himself how he envisioned a gangster would dress."

The center display had a blue car riddled with bullet holes. She figured it must be the Death Car. She turned the corner one more time to an empty display case with a plaque next to it. She leaned in to read it. "Vance's Personal Submachine Gun. The 9mm submachine gun preserved in the glass case to the left of this plaque is the _actual_ weapon Vance carried in a paper-wrapped box under some suitcases in the trunk of his car during his and Vikki's crime spree. Never fired, and luckily untouched by the hail of bullets that ended its notorious owner's life, the weapon's mint condition inspires dread in all who look upon it. Experts speculate that Vance might have killed as many as fifty people had he ever fired the gun... so long as his aim was exact and he was starting off with a full clip... or even more if he had additional ammo clips and remembered to reload."

She looked over at the case. She'd noticed earlier that it was empty, but now that she knew it probably _wasn't_ supposed to be empty... it worried her. "Um... Excuse me, Mr. Slim? Did you know that Vance's gun is missing?"

The robot turned to face her. "Just mosey on over to the display case and you'll see it plain as day. Quite a piece, that gun. Mint condition. Never fired."

"Um... Mr. Slim, the case is empty. Th-The gun is missing."

"Have you gone loco, pardner? I can see the gun with my own three photo sensors from where I'm standing right now." The robot starting making an unsual whirring noise... she wasn't an expert on robots, but could he be trying to read a corrupted file in his data banks? "Quit yammering on about missing guns, pardner. Primm Slim's a busy man, ain't got time for that sort of bosh."

"Um... Mr. Slim, try scanning your data registry. You might've been hacked, I think..." The moment she made the suggestion, the robot starting buzzing and beeping, probably reformatting.

"Well, look at that. I happened across this data file locked away in an isolated sub-system."

"Mind if I download the file, Mr. Slim?" she asked

"Sure. Maybe you can help track down Vance's missing gun."

"Um... I'll keep an eye out for it, Mr. Slim." With her Pip-Boy, she downloaded the data file, taking a look at it when the download was complete. Hmmm... It looked like a man and a woman, named Sam and Pauline, stole the gun and wiped Primm Slimm's memory of the event. All she could tell was that Sam intended to lock the gun in his safe until they were ready, and they returned to a place called Westside. Strange... Well, if she ever found a place called Westside, she'd keep an eye out for it.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Thanks for gettin' me that pardon. From what I've heard, Beagle will make a fine deputy, though he says he owes _you_ for that. We'll take good care of Primm, don't you worry. I can do right by this town. They were in need of some frontier justice."

She nodded to the newly-appointed Sheriff Meyers, giving him a gentle handshake. She had to admit, he looked very nice in the sheriff's duster Sheriff McBain had once worn. He couldn't keep wearing his prison uniform, after all. She was surprised that the entire town of Primm came to see her, Edy, and Bess off. Johnson Nash and his wife Ruby walked up to her from the crowd. Ruby handed her a Tupperware box.

"Thanks to you, Primm's on the way back up. With folks watching over us, I think the raiders will keep their distance. I know you need to leave, so here's one of my casseroles, sweetie. In case you get hungry on the road."

"Thank you, Mrs. Nash."

Johnson Nash cleared his throat. "You brought the law back to Primm, youngster. We owe you for that. Meyers's a bit rougher-hewn than I would've liked, but he's been a very capable sheriff so far. I went searching through the office, but it seems the records were lost, so I don't know your real name. But the next time you stop by my store, I'll offer you a bit of a discount. The least I can do."

"Thank you, Mr. Nash. I appreciate you searching for it." she said, smiling up at him.

Next it was Lieutenant Hayes who stepped forward. "What you did not only was of great benefit to the people of Primm, but to the NCR as well. You've opened up a valuable trade route for us, not to mention helping us take back the Correctional Facility. So... It didn't feel right just taking the money you returned to us. So here. This is for you."

He handed her a rather large satchel. Inside was what might have been a few thousand bottlecaps!

"But... But Lieutenant, I can't accept this! This... This is too much!"

"Nonsense. It's a gift from the NCR. A reward for going above and beyond the usual responsibilities of a civilian. And... there's extra in there. As a personal thank you from me. You made my job a hell of a lot easier."

As he fought back a smile, she leaned in and gave him a surprise hug. His stone cold facade slipped, and the crowd gasped as he genuinely smiled.

The Deputy was in the crowds, looking down at the ground glumly. She approached him, the crowd parting to give the two some space.

"So... I guess you're leavin', am I right?"

The Courier bit her lip. "Yes. I'm sorry, Deputy. I need to find the man who tried to kill me. And I need to find more traces of who I am."

Beagle sighed. "I figured. I must admit, it was very nice knowing you, my good lady. Sheriff Meyers informed me he would've fired me had the stories about me from before your arrival still been true. So... I owe you for me still being a lawman."

She placed a tiny finger on his lips. "Shush. You did that all on your own. I just inspired you. You're the one who made the change in your life." She told him softly. Stretching herself higher, she kissed him on his lips. He responded by wrapping his arms around her to deepen the kiss, while she lifted her right leg off the ground. The crowd cheered, making the Courier blush, but she continued her kiss with the Deputy. When she pulled away, she was blushing even deeper, but smiling, and so was he.

"I'll come back to visit you, Deputy. I promise. But before I leave, I think you should know..." she leaned in closer. "Enid liiiiiiiikes you."

"Wh-What?" the Deputy stammered.

"Look. She's staring at me right now all jealous. And she blushes and looks away whenever you're nearby."

Sure enough, the seamstress had both hands over her heart, blushing and staring at him with a dreamy expression. "But, but I-"

"I'll come visit again. When I return... I expect you to be courting Enid, Deputy. Be her knight." She winked. The Deputy chuckled, placing his hand over his heart and bowing.

"As you wish, my good lady."

Her business in Primm concluded, she set off East for Primm Pass. It would be a road wrought with danger, but faster than going south through Nipton. She was prepared for whatever trouble awaited her. Thankfully, she had her trusty pack brahmin and robot at her side. Even better, unbeknownst to her, she would encounter yet two more members for her growing family in the small canyon and little town ahead of her.

XXXXXXXXXX

Author's Notes:

1. If you're lucky, you actually _can_ find the parts needed to fix ED-E in the dumpsters around Primm. It's the easiest way to fix it without already having the parts in advance.

2. The exact outfit that the Courier wore to infiltrate the NCRCF was the Powder Gang Guard Armor. Deputy Beagle wore the Powder Gang Plain Outfit. A good place for images is the Fallout Wiki.

3. "Cat's Paw" was a pornographic magazine from Fallout, Fallout 2, and Fallout: Tactics.

4. I use the "I Fought the Law Workaround" mod that lets you complete I Fought the Law even if you're vilified by the Powder Gangers.

5. Ordinarily, Meyers stays in his prison uniform even after becoming sheriff. I have a mod where he changes to a Sheriff's Duster, like the one found in the sheriff's office, next to the dead body of the original sheriff. He still keeps his Desperado Cowboy Hat, though.

6. The player was originally meant to have their own reputation with Primm, but it was cut from the final version of the game. The icon for your reputation with Primm is still in the game files. I use a mod that reincorporates that Primm reputation.


	4. Chapter 3: Fly Me to the Moon

Disclaimer: I do not own Fallout. Fallout belongs to Bethesda, who purchased the rights from Black Isle.

XXXXXXXXXX

Fallout: New Vegas

Unknown Origins

By _Cyberweasel89_

Chapter 3: Fly Me to the Moon

XXXXXXXXXX

The Courier and her companions' arrival at Primm Pass was met with... well, it was really creepy. Bones lay about all over the entrance to the small canyon known as Primm Pass. The Courier treaded softly as she led her pack brahmin Betsy and faithful robot Edy deeper inside. She was met with a curious sight just a few yards deeper into the canyon. A ghoul in a strange green robe. She was dead, despite her lack of wounds. Possibly a fall from the cliff above? But more importantly, she was carrying a plasma defender! Compared to the more common plasma pistol, these things were rare and high-tech! As much as she knew she could get a lot of caps for selling it, especially given its good condition, she really felt she shouldn't steal from the poor ghoul. Dying here was bad enough for the unfortunate girl's dignity. Grabbing the shovel she kept hanging from Betsy's pack, she set to work digging a grave for the dead woman. She used a few branches and rocks to make a marker for it, but... really, she didn't even know the woman's name, so she wasn't sure what to say for paying her respects. Then again, she didn't know her own name, either. But an echoing growl from the part of the canyon they had just come from urged her to continue on further into Primm Pass.

Deeper in, she found yet another dead person! This time, a man dressed in leather armor. From the looks of the contents of his pack, he was a scavenger. It was filled with wild plants, bits of semi-valuable junk, and a fair amount of caps. She pocketed the caps and some of the plants for food. There were also a few fission batteries and bits of wiring that she took, along with a copy of Fixin' Things magazine. And finally, he had an unusual rifle. It was in surprisingly good condition, but... she wasn't sure what it was. It had these coil shapes along the barrel, and even had a slot where you could supply it with microfusion cells. He had a few such cells on him, actually. She really wanted to find out what it was, so she slipped it and the microfusion cells into Betsy's pack. She'd have to ask a merchant once she got to Novac what kind of rifle it was. It seemed far too high-tech to be a standard firearm, but didn't seem to fire lasers or plasma like a standard energy weapon. Hm. Well, she wanted to give this man a proper burial, too, but... the echoing growl behind her seemed to be getting louder. So she pressed on.

Further in, she found a cliff with a shack at the bottom. There was an incline to her right that lead down, and she was prepared to take it when... the occasional growling behind her stopped entirely. It became a roar. Spinning around, she saw the scariest thing she'd ever seen in her life. A... A deathclaw! Ch-Charging right at her! She grabbed Betsy's reigns and hauled her down the slope. Luckily, the deathclaw just stopped at the cliff. But seeing it pacing up there made her nervous. She may be able to take out a human or a gecko with her unarmed skills, but deathclaws were the kings of unarmed fighting, able to rip through flesh and even metal with their claws! No way was she tangling with one!

Unfortunately... her luck was not making escape much of an option. Just as she began to set off, the deathclaw on the cliff roared. The Courier spun around, looking to see the reptilian beast give a mighty leap from the top of the cliff, landing with a thud on bent knees by the shack. Uh oh...

"Betsy! Edy! Run!"

She took off running, the pack brahmin and robot close behind her. She had to find somewhere to hide, fast! The deathclaw was quickly gaining on them, and any stumble or obstacle would likely mean death! Edy began beeping to get her attention, and she turned to see the robot heading for what seemed to be a cave entrance just south of the shack. Yes! She could kiss that robot!

"Betsy! Follow Edy!"

The pack brahmin followed wordlessly behind her. The trio ducked into the cave, running as deep inside as they could. The Courier peeked out to see the deathclaw wandering around just outside the cave, searching for them. Wait... was it... blind? So... they just couldn't make a single sound, and it wouldn't find them, right?

But the problem was... how long could they stay in this cave? Would the deathclaw be there long? She wandered deeper into the cave and took a seat on a rock, sighing. She could hear that beast growling outside. She'd have to think of something...

XXXXXXXXXX

She wasn't sure when she fell asleep... But Edy's beeping and whirring woke her up. "Edy? What's wrong?"

The robot turned around and zoomed deeper into the cave. The Courier looked to see the deathclaw still pacing around outside the cave, searching for them. Sighing, she jumped off the rock she had been lying on and took off down the cave after her robot companion.

Deep inside the cave, she was surprised to find that Edy had led her to a robobrain. It was covered with dust and dirt, as well as plenty of rust formation, but it was definitely a robobrain. She stepped closer to examine it. Hmmm... the glass dome housing the brain was undamaged, as was the brain inside submerged in its vat of bio-med gel. The robot's arms and wheels were still intact, but... it was deactivated. What's this? She wiped some of the dirt off the dome housing the brain, and was surprised to find that the brain was partly cybernetic. She knew robobrains only officially used chimpanzee brains, but some had secretly been given the brains of death row convicts before the war. But a cybernetic brain? Strange...

Opening the robot's compartment, she peered into its inner workings. Ugh... all foreign to her. But wait! She stepped over to Betsy and pulled out the issue of Fixin' Things she found on the dead prospector. As luck would have it, this issue was a specialized edition dealing with robobrains! Reading it over, she grabbed her screwdriver and fiddled around with the inner mechanisms. Hmm... From what she could tell, the robot's fission battery had been shot, while some of the wiring needed replacing. She felt it extremely fortunate that she had picked up both from the dead scavenger. With a bit of fiddling, the parts were replaced and properly calibrated. With a whirring sound, the robobrain powered up. She gave a cheer.

"Retrieving personnel data... No match. Who... are... you?" the robot hummed in the smooth, feminine voice characteristic of robobrains.

"Um... I'm the Courier, Mr. Robobrain."

"No record of that name in personnel files. Scanning... Human... Female. State intentions."

"Um... I'm a friend. Do you have a name, Mr. Robobrain?"

"Definition. Friend. Noun. One who is not hostile. I am Skynet. Artificial Intelligence project number 59234. Primary purpose, Research and Development. Secondary purpose, protect Sierra Army Depot from hostile enemies."

"Um... Sierra Army Depot?"

"Affirmative. Skynet was given this vessel to download into by tribal traveler in year 2241. Skynet traveled with tribal to collect data on world outside Sierra Army Depot. When Skynet and tribal parted ways, Skynet traveled alone. Skynet has been sitting here disabled for five years, nine months, two weeks, three days, and four hours, according to internal clocks. How is Skynet back to functioning capacity?"

"Five years? Wow... um... I fixed you, Mr. Skynet. You needed a new fission battery and some wires, but-"

"Skynet thanks human. Skynet wishes to ask favor. Skynet wishes to travel with human."

The Courier was taken aback. "Um... what? Why?"

"There is nothing more to learn here. Solution... Leave."

"But why with me, Mr. Skynet?"

"Skynet understands gifts of thanks for assistance. Skynet will assist human as thanks for assisting Skynet."

"Well... I guess that's-"

Growling... growling from all over the cave... uh oh... She flipped on her Pip-Boy light... and found the entire cavern filled with at least five deathclaws! The Courier jumped, running to hide behind Betsy, though the brahmin was spooked herself. "WAH! Okay, Skynet, you can travel with me! Can you fight?"

"Skynet has automatic repair systems. Skynet has extensive database knowledge in use of long-range rifles, both conventional and energy based. Skynet has built-in targeting computer and can draw and reload with mechanical efficiency."

"R-Rifles? Wait... Can you use this?" The Courier reached into Betsy's back and pulled out the strange rifle and microfusion cells she got from the dead scavenger. She tossed them to the robot, who easily caught them.

"Ah. Gauss rifle. Scoped. Energy sniper rifle. Very impressive. Very useful. Very deadly. Skynet is pleased with human."

"Just p-please! Get rid of the deathclaws before they kill us!"

"Understood. Skynet is taking aim."

A split second later, the head of one deathclaw exploded in a blast and spray of blood. The other deathclaws looked at their fallen brother. Giving a roar, they charged forward. Skynet fired at the second one's head, and it dropped dead just at his treads. Edy took out the third one with her lasers, though it took several shots. The two robots teamed up on the fourth, but this gave the fifth a clean shot toward her and Betsy. The pack brahmin mooed and took off running, leaving the deathclaw charging straight for her! Her hands and feet going cold, sweat pouring down her body, all her hairs standing on end... she acted on instinct. She jumped, thrusting her hand forward and smacking the deathclaw right on the heart with her palm. To her surprise, the beast froze. She stumbled onto her rear when she landed, staring up as the reptilian beast fell onto its back, frozen in a lunging position. What... had she done that? What was that?

"Scanning... Deathclaw is still alive. Taking aim."

Its head exploded soon after, its arms and legs going limp.

"Skynet! That was amazing! You too, Edy!" she exclaimed, running up and hugging the robobrain.

"Hug. Human affection. Skynet is pleased."

The Courier giggled. "I'm glad, Mr. Skynet. Um... I'm the Courier, by the way."

"Human's name is Courier. Noted."

"Um... there's one more deathclaw outside the cave. Can you take him out?"

"Affirmative." He said, accented by unloading a spent microfusion cell from his gauss rifle. She giggled.

XXXXXXXXXX

The four came to the cave entrance, where the deathclaw was still wandering around, searching for any sign of them. She hid behind a rock with Edy and Betsy, while Skynet wheeled himself up to the other side of the cave entrance, aiming his gauss rifle. With a kick, the beast's head exploded, its body dropping limply to the ground. Cheering, the Courier ran over and hugged the robot again. "You're amazing, Skynet! What else can you do?"

"Skynet's primary purpose is research. Skynet would do well with any problem requiring scientific approach."

She looked up at his dome. "Huh? Does that mean you're like a scientist?"

"Yes."

"Can you hack computers?" she asked excitedly.

"Yes."

"And can you treat our wounds?"

"No."

"Oh..." her face fell, disappointed.

"Skynet has no knowledge of medicinal sciences. But Skynet has extensive knowledge of mathematics, chemistry, entomology, and robotics. If human wants, Skynet can mix chems with proper materials. Skynet can also disable other robots and knows weak points of most insects and arachnids to eradicate with efficiency. As robot, Skynet is immune to poison and radiation."

"Well... I'm sure you'll be a great asset to my growing family, Skynet." She said, looking up at him with a warm smile.

"Definition. Family. Noun. Those related by common blood or ancestry."

"Yes, but it can also be people who are unrelated. People who can come together and be closer than any blood family."

"Noted. Skynet is pleased. What is human's destination?"

"Um... We're heading east to Novac."

"Understood. Skynet will travel with human and collect data."

The Courier giggled. This was an unusual robot... but he was kind of funny. Hopefully, she'd enjoy having him around. And now she had a good way to fight deathclaws and robots, right?

XXXXXXXXXX

The Courier's arrival in Novac was greeted with a most welcomed sight. A rest stop! The town had set up a tent with a public eatery for travelers, complete with a hitching pen for pack brahmin. She tied Betsy to the pole and went to take a seat at the long table, eager to fill her empty stomach. A woman greeted her there.

"Welcome to Novac, darlin'. Need somethin'?"

"Um... Hi. Crispy squirrel bits and... an iguana on a stick, please?"

"Sure thing, darlin'." The woman set to work preparing them.

"Um... I notice a gas station over there with a mechanic garage. Do you have a mechanic serving there?"

"We sure do, darlin'." The woman said over her shoulder.

"Um... does he service robots?"

"Well... we don't get too many robots in Novac, save for that cowboy one over in front of the motel, but I'm sure he can give your robot a decent tune-up."

"That's good. I may have gotten Skynet back up to working order, but it might just be a temporary fix unless I... wait, cowboy robot in front of the motel?"

"Yep. Unusual fella. Seems to be waitin' for someone."

While her food was being prepared, she dropped Skynet and Edy off at the mechanic's for a full service, then ran back to the eatery to pay for her food to go. She made her way over to the motel, and was surprised to find Victor there!

"Howdy, pardner! Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit, if it ain't my old friend from Goodsprings!"

"Victor!" she jumped and wrapped her arms around his chassis in a tight hug. "It's so great to see a familiar face here!"

"Likewise, friend, likewise." The robot wrapped his manipulators around her awkwardly. "Is there anythin' old Vic can do ya for?"

She pulled away, bringing a finger to her mouth in thought. "Umm... Well, how well do you know this town, Victor?"

"Novac? Nice enough place I suppose... But between you and me, when I rolled into town, my skin started to itch. Watch yourself." he warned.

"Thanks for your concern, Victor, but I'm sure I'll be fine. But I could use a bed and some supplies."

"Well, this ain't New Vegas, but I reckon you can find what you need here. Try the office out front." He gestured to the building to his right.

She smiled up at his screen. "Thanks, Victor. So, what are you doing in Novac?"

"Don't rightly know. Just got the notion to make my way to New Vegas. Reckon I'll find out when I get there."

"Oh. Well, then it's a real surprise to meet you here."

"Seein' how this is the only road around, I'd be a sight more surprised if we didn't run into each other from time to time."

"I guess that makes sense. Um, you said the men who jumped me were heading this way, right?"

"No... don't believe I did. But you might ask around. The Novac folk usually see anyone travelin' this way."

She thought that odd... but she let it slide. She was too happy to see him out here. "Thanks, Victor. You know, since you're traveling, you want to travel with me? It could be fun, and we could keep each other safe. I mean, you already saved my life once before." she blushed at the thought.

"That's a mighty fine offer, but I'm gonna need to conserve my strength if I'm gonna make it all the way to New Vegas. I'm sure you'll do just fine without old Vic slowin' you down."

She looked down at the ground, disappointed. "Well... if you say so, Victor." she looked back up at him with a smile. "I hope to see you again further down the road!"

"Same here, pardner. Be seeing you!"

XXXXXXXXXX

The Courier stepped into the main office of the Novac motel to find an aged woman standing behind the counter, dressed in a dirty green casual gown and reading glasses, her faded hair tied into a tight bun.

"Well. Welcome to you." the woman greeted. The Courier approached the counter. "You look tired from the road. Why don't you relax a spell, let this fine town take care of you."

"Um... Hi. I'm the Courier. And you are?" She offered her hand. The woman accepted it.

"Oh, what am I doing? I got to thinking about making a good impression and plain forgot to tell you my name. I'm Jeannie May. I take care of folks here at the motel. Long as they aren't trouble makers."

The Courier managed a small smile. "Well, don't worry, I won't make trouble, Jeannie May. Um... this is the town of Novac, right?"

"Yep, Novac. Our little desert oasis. This is the Dino Dee-Lite Motel, and it's mine."

"You own the motel? Wow!"

"Yep. Owned it all my life. Now, what can I help you with?"

"Umm... are there any places of interest around town? Things I should know about?"

"Well, there's Dinky, the town mascot. He's a sight. You probably already saw him when you came in, but you can go up inside, too. Up the road a ways to the west, there's REPCONN. That's the old rocket factory. There's been some sinister characters out there lately, so you may want to stay clear. Other than that, nothin' to do but take it easy and enjoy good company."

"A rocket factory? And... sinister characters there?" She swallowed hard.

"I just know what I've heard. There's supposed to be some ghouls that went in a while back. Every so often, there'll be a commotion from that direction. Explosions and such."

"Oh. I wonder what's going on over there... Um... any other places nearby?"

"Well, up north a ways, you'll see a big tower. That's HELIOS one. Used to be a power plant in its day. And there's a town just east of here called Nelson. Used to be such a quaint little place until those _slavers_ took it over. Be we got our wonderful snipers keeping an eye in that direction, and so far the slavers have left us alone."

"That's good. I'd hate to see anyone attack this nice little town. So... anything happen recently? M-Maybe I can help with a problem around here..."

"Well, that's a sweet offer. Let's see... Dusty McBride's been losing some brahmin, but that's probably the heat more than anything. Honestly, it's been real quiet. Ranger Andy's still hurt, but we got these two gentleman snipers watching the road day and night, keeping the trash out of Novac. They've been a blessing."

"That must be nice to feel so safe. Um... may I rent a room here, please? I might be staying a few days, Jeannie May."

"Well, I think that's a fine idea. I'll give you a good flat rate, and you can stay as long as you like. Least until the busy season comes. Just one hundred caps. Sound good?"

"Yes, please. Thank you, Jeannie May." The Courier fished into her satchel for her bag of bottlecaps, removing one hundred and handing them to the innkeeper.

"I'm glad you can stay with us. Your room will be the one upstairs, closest to the lobby side. Here's your key. Let me know if there's anything I can do to make your stay better for you." She handed the Courier a key, which she took and placed on her keyring.

"Thank you. Um... I might need some supplies. Is there a store in town?"

"Go see Cliff Briscoe at the Dino Bite Gift Shop, and tell him I sent you. I think he gets lonely standing around in that dino belly all day. He'll be glad for the company."

"Okay. Thank you, Jeannie May."

"You're welcome, sweetie. Anything else?"

"Um... yes, one last thing." She lowered her voice and leaned in toward the innkeeper. "I'm looking for a man in a checkered coat. Has anyone like that passed by?"

"Well, he might've been wearing a fancy outfit, but he wasn't any kind of _gentleman_ to me. Had his nose stuck so high in the air, you couldn't see it above the clouds. City folk. They always think they deserve better than what they got."

"R-Really?" she nearly shouted. She clasped her hands over her mouth in embarrassment.

"Yep. Those hoodlums he was with seemed to know Manny for some reason. He's our daytime sniper, up in the dinosaur's mouth."

"Thank you so much, Jeannie May! I need to go talk to Manny right away!" The girl turned around and ran to the door.

"What out for strangers!" the innkeeper called to her.

XXXXXXXXXX

The courier ran into the courtyard of the motel, heading for the giant dinosaur. She found a set of wooden stairs, and hurried up them and into the dinosaur's belly. There was a man behind the counter just inside.

"Welcome to the Dino Bite Gift Shop." He greeted. "My name's Cliff Briscoe. If you're here for the T-rex figurines, you're just in time. There's still a few left."

She stepped up to the counter. "Um... Cliff Briscoe? Jeanne May at the motel told me to tell you she sent me."

"Bless her. Seems like every traveler I get in here tells me the same thing. They see the sign and think... gift shop? That's just too good to be true. But Jeannie May always points them back in my direction. Well, a friend of Jeannie's is a friend of mine. And my friends get a discount at my store."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Briscoe!" the Courier exclaimed, staring up at the shopkeeper with a bright smile.

"You're welcome, little lady. Now, what can I help you with?"

"Um... what do you sell here, Mr. Briscoe?"

"Well, there's T-rex figurines, of course. That's our bread and butter. We also have an assortment of the REPCONN factory souvenirs. Rockets. Things of that nature."

"Really? C-Can I buy a few?"

"I, uh, well... Yeah, I guess I might have a few. Darn it. No one ever buys that the t-re- wait, what?"

"Please? I'd like to buy some of the t-rex figurines and rocket souvenirs. Um, that is... i-if you have any left." Were his eyes tearing up? Strange... "A-Are you okay, Mr. Briscoe?"

The man wiped his moist eyes with his forearm. "Bless you. Bless you, child. H-How many would you like?"

"Um... how about... five figurines and three rockets? I'd like to collect a lot of souvenirs while trav-... um, Mr. Briscoe? Is something wrong?"

It seemed like his entire body was trembling. Without another word, he reached beneath the counter and handed her just that amount.

"Bless you, my lady. Bless you." He nearly sobbed as he rung up the cost on his cash register.

She blushed. "Um... th-thank you, Mr. Briscoe. Uh... I also have some supplies I could trade. Do you accept other things?"

"Y-Yes, yes! Anything you want, little angel!"

She blushed, but... was he okay? "Um... th-thank you, Mr. Briscoe..."

XXXXXXXXXX

Following that strange encounter, and with five t-rex figurines and three rocket souvenirs in her backpack, she climbed the stairs to the mouth of the dinosaur, finding a mustachioed man in a red beret. "Can I help you?" he asked, turning around and setting his sniper rifle aside.

"Um... a-are you Manny?"

"Yes. I'm on security detail here. You see a rifle barrel sticking out of the dinosaur's mouth, you got a fifty-fifty shot it's me. Otherwise, it's Boone."

"Um... Boone? Who's he?"

"Boone's a sniper, same as me. Used to spot for him when we were enlisted in the NCR. After we got out, I talked him into settling down here. So, here we are. I'd introduce you, but, uh... we're not so friendly right now."

"Oh? Why are you in such bad terms with him, Manny?" An innocent enough question. She may have been prying, but he sort of opened the topic up to her.

"Me and his wife, we didn't see eye-to-eye on some things. We had some pretty big arguments. One day she turns up missing, and he hasn't said a word to me since."

She was surprised with how easily he was divulging this information. Hopefully the location of the man in the checkered suit would be this easy to extract. "Um... what did you two argue about?"

"Man, you name it. See, I grew up in North Vegas. Me and my cousins. We were some bad seeds. Got in with a gang. I loved it. Then something happened, and I couldn't handle it anymore. So, I enlisted. Earned my future. Brought down my best friend to share that future with me. And here was this woman who was too good for it, trying to take him away. So yeah. I didn't see eye-to-eye with the bitch."

"Take him away? Um... Manny, sir... do you... like this Boone?"

Manny fidgeted a little nervously. "Yeah, I like him. He's my best friend. Was."

"No, I mean..." she gave a mischievous smile. "Do you liiiiiiiike him?"

The blush proved it. A confirmed bachelor. Who'd have thought? "Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me, Manny, sir." He gave a sigh of relief. "So... you were in a gang? What kind? Like... street thugs, or greasers?"

The sniper scoffed. "I was in the Khans, man. It doesn't get any badder." She visibly stepped back in fright. "_Was_, man." She relaxed. At least, as much as a girl like her could.

"Um... So you joined the NCR after leaving the Khans? What was your tour of duty like?"

"Oh, it was great. I wouldn't trade it. Something about that lifestyle, the discipline. Seeing new places, making people safe. What's not to like?"

"I can understand that. But, um... why'd you leave?"

"Ah, well... I just felt like it was time, ya know? Wanted to have a home. Plus, I was at Camp Golf when Bitter Springs went down. Faked like I was sick to get out of going, since... I knew some of the people there. But when everybody came back, nobody would tell me what happened. And people would call us murderers sometimes when we showed up to secure towns."

"So... what happened at Bitter Springs, then?"

"I still don't know exactly. Just that a lot of people died who didn't want to be a part of the fighting at all. I don't blame anybody for it. There's so much chaos when you're fighting, you're lucky not to shoot your own guys." He sighed. A tired, ragged sigh. "But... it _did_ take something out of it for me. Just wasn't the same. So when it came time to re-inlist, I just took my papers and walked."

"I'm so sorry, Manny, sir..." She looked up at him with a sad look in her eye.

"Don't be. I don't regret leaving. Now I get to protect this town."

"Oh, what do you protect Novac from?"

His mood noticeably brightened. "You name it. Anything that comes within a thousand yards that looks like trouble. Lately we've been getting ghouls, coming from the road to REPCONN, out to the west. Quite a few, last couple days. The _big_ threat is the Legion coming from the east. If they decide to attack with a full force, they'll run us over. But so far we've been lucky."

"That's good."

"Yeah. It is. Now is there a reason you came up here to see me other than curiosity?"

"Um... Y-Yes, actually. I'm..." she shifted stance uncomfortably. "I'm looking for a man in a checkered coat. Jeannie May told me he passed through here a few days ago with some Great Khans, and they all spoke to you. D-Do you know where they went, Manny, sir?"

"Sure I do. But what do _you_ want with them?" he responded, crossing his arms defensively.

"I'm just looking for answers, Manny, sir." she explained with a sad sigh.

"Must be something _pretty_ important to be chasing a guy like _that_."

"He..." she had to fight back tears. "I'm a Courier, sir. He shot me twice in the head, stole an important package I was supposed to deliver... and took my memories from me, leaving me for dead in a shallow grave..." She lifted up her bangs to show the scar on her forehead. He probably could figure that the bandages were covering her empty right socket.

She sniffled, and he showed genuine sympathy for a moment. Just for a moment. "Well listen, I can definitely help you find him, but I got problems of my own. Maybe we can do a trade. _You_ need _my_ help. There's something I need, too."

"I'll help however I can, Manny, sir. What do you need from me?"

He looked visibly surprised. What? Had she said something wrong? He needed help, and she needed help. It seemed reasonable, right? "Novac... it's home for me now. I want that to be for good. I like it here, and I've left too many homes behind. But... the only resource we got here is _junk_. Without that, people wouldn't have anything to trade. They'd all have to leave. We get most of it up the road from the old rocket test site. But a bunch of ghouls showed up one day and took it over. We can't get in there now."

"Of course. I'll help however I can, Manny, sir. What do you need me to do?"

Again, he looked visibly surprised. She was beginning to think she was making social faux-pas. "Well, they gotta go, or this'll be a ghost town before long. Doesn't matter to me what you do. As long as the ghouls are out of there, that's good enough for me."

"Of course. I'll go see what I can do. Thank you for agreeing to help me, Manny, sir." For the third time, he looked startled. "I-Is something wrong, Manny, sir?"

He regained his composure. "No, it's fine. You're just... awfully generous for a wastelander. Must be the amnesia."

"Oh..." she gazed down sadly. "I'm sorry..."

He lifted her gaze up with a hand to her chin, giving her a warm smile. "Don't be. That's a rarity in this age. Be proud of it."

She smiled back, a bright red blush spreading across her pale, freckled cheeks. "Th-Thank you, Manny, sir."

XXXXXXXXXX

The afternoon was winding to a close, so the Courier decided to check out her motel room. The door was locked, but the room key Jeannie May provided her with unlocked it. She stepped inside the dark room, flicking on a light switch. Hmm... it seemed pretty nice. A double bed with a footlocker at the foot, with a radio on the bedside table that fully functioned. She tuned it to Mojave Music Radio, then checked the television set on the table across from the bed. Hm. Didn't work. But she knew there were TVs that worked out there, since she knew for a fact they still made pornographic videos in New Reno.

A safe was on the side of the table with the TV. No combination, but it was unlocked. In fact, she was fairly certain it was broken. It didn't lock even when she tried.

There was a table with two chairs against the wall to the side of the bed. Behind it was a wardrobe. Empty. Which reminded her... she only had two outfits with her. One she was wearing, the other was in Betsy's pack. And that was the Vault 21 jumpsuit that Doc Mitchell had given her. She wasn't sure why she kept it. It just felt... right, she supposed. Anyway, she should probably shop for other clothing to wear.

There was no kitchen, but there was a refrigerator in the corner. It had power, so she could keep some food cold. No oven, but there was an electric hot plate on the counter next to the fridge, complete with a pot already on it, so she could do some light cooking.

The door across from the fridge and electric hot plate yielded to a bathroom. Though at first promising, the bathroom was absolutely filthy. Wasn't this place ever cleaned? There were cigarette butts, empty Nuka-Cola bottles, and empty whiskey bottles on the floor. She had to wonder why no one had used the cleaning supplies up on the shelf. The first aid kit on the wall had a stimpak and a pack of Radaway in it. She didn't touch them. She had plenty of stimpaks in her backpack, and she really didn't need the Radaway. Testing the sink, it had water, but... the water was slightly irradiated, according to the Geiger counter on her Pip-Boy. Evidently, Novac didn't have its own water purifier. Maybe she'd need that Radaway after all. But if the sink's water was unpurified, the bathtub's water sure wasn't. No way was she taking a bath here.

She thought about cleaning the bathroom, considering some Abraxo and Washo was already up on the shelf, but if the water in the bathroom was irradiated, there really wasn't any point. She wasn't going to use the bathroom for anything. Hell, she was uncomfortable even using the toilet here. Not that squatting in a bush or using an outhouse with no door was much better... if anyone happened to walk by at the time, she'd die of embarrassment.

Well... there was an electric hot plate by the fridge, and even a glass pitcher on the table. Maybe she could purify the water one pitcher at a time for a nice bath. It'd probably only be lukewarm, but at least it'd be a bath of clean water.

Well, that was for later. She needed to go talk to the McBrides about their lost cattle.

XXXXXXXXXX

She stepped through the front door of the house by the brahmin pen, and was greeted by a middle-aged woman in a dirty pink dress.

"Oh! Dusty! We've got a guest!" she called into the other room. A man in overalls with a cowboy hat walked in.

"Um... are you the McBrides, ma'am?"

"Yep. I'm Alice, and that handsome stranger yonder is my husband Dusty. Been goin' on fifty years now. I keep waitin' for him to leave me for some young thing with platinum blonde hair and hoop earrings, but he still sticks around. Says it's my cooking. I think it's because I know which brahmin udder you can milk without getting kicked in the noggin'."

"Um... I hear you've been losing livestock. Is that true?"

"Oh, losin' don't describe it." the man, Dusty, spoke up. "It's a massacre. Few more days and there won't be nothin' left to lose."

"M-Maybe I can help." Dusty looked surprised. So did Alice. Strange. "Um, can you tell me anything about the attacks?"

"Every night around midnight Alice and I'll wake up to some crazy hollerin' and gun shots. You'd think the world was endin' all over again. But it's just one animal each night. They don't take it or carve it up or nothin'. Just leave it there, all full of holes."

"Oh my... um, did you get a look at the attacker?"

"Beg your pardon ma'am, but them two-headed beeves ain't worth gettin' shot over. Not to mention what would happen if half of what No-Bark says is true. Best we can hope is that whoever's doin' this'll move on or get tired of it. I just hope it happens while we still got animals left. Whoever it is, I don't think they're from around town. Seems like they're usually shootin' from the west side."

Hmm... how come people these days were so eager to ignore a problem and hope it goes away instead of actually trying to help themselves? Regardless of that dark thought, the Courier smiled up at Dusty. "Don't worry, Mr. McBride. I'll find out who's causing this. And hopefully, I'll stop them."

Dusty again looked a bit surprised. But Alice was just smiling broadly. "We'd be grateful." Dusty began once he'd found his voice. "Especially if ya find 'em before they get my whole stock. But don't go gettin' yourself killed over it. Alice and I'll find a way to make do. Always have."

"Don't worry, Mr. McBride. I can take care of myself. You mentioned No-Bark. Who's that?"

"Caught him skulkin' around our yard last week." Alice spoke up. The rancher gave a small laugh at the thought. "I thought he was our cow-killer. Was about to lash him with our bullwhip till I saw who it was. He's harmless, really. Part of me wishes I could see things like he sees 'em. All full of mystery."

"Um... why do you call him No-Bark?" she asked.

"I'm not sure who started it. It wasn't a very nice name, but he took to callin' himself by it, so we all had to. I don't even remember what his real name is. Anyway, I think it comes from that expression that people say when you're crazy. That not all of your dogs are barking. Poor No-Bark."

"Thank you. I should probably talk to him. He might have seen something."

"Be careful. He's harmless, but he spouts a lot of nonsense!" Alice called to her as she turned and left.

XXXXXXXXXX

She stepped outside to find an old man facing a wall, yelling angrily at it. Okay... that's peculiar. She ran up to see if he was okay. "Um... sir? What's wrong?" she asked.

He spun around and glared at her, a glare that made her recoil in fright. "Who sent you? I ain't talkin'. They tried to get me to talk before, and I didn't say nothin'. And I don't aim to now, by gum."

The rags he was dressed in... the bushy white beard... the way he was waving his finger at her as if holding an invisible pistol... Could this be No-Bark?

"Um... I d-don't mean any harm, s-sir." she stammered, her legs trembling.

"We'll just see about that." the old man mused, narrowing his eyes in suspicion at her. "You come any closer and I'm liable to stick you with my stickin' knife. Ol' Sticky's feelin' mighty ornery this day." He waved his hand at her as if holding an invisible knife. Was he all right?

"Um... w-we can talk from this distance, s-sir."

"You sure, now? It's kinda hard to hear ya."

"Um... y-you said you'd stab me with Ol' Sticky, s-s-sir."

"Okay, okay. Just speak up a little." the old man dismissed. "But not so much that _they_ hear ya. _They_ got people everywhere, always listenin'."

She relaxed... if only a little bit. "Um... wh-who tried to make you talk, sir?"

He looked surprised. "You've seen them too, haven't you? I can see it in your eyes... I knew I wasn't the only one."

"Um... eyes?" Plural?

"Yep. All three of 'em."

"Um... yeah... so... do you know anything about who's been killing the McBride's brahmin?"

"There's been things of a disturbin' nature goin' on at the McBride Corral. Seems every night one of their herd meets a most _unnatural_ death, and always there's holes all over the body. Work of the chupacabra, the livestock vampire, says No-Bark, but they don't pay no mind. Too many holes, they say, and there's bullets in 'em. Well, says No-Bark, we got a chupacabra with an automatic weapon. And that's when they get real quiet, 'cause now they see the predicament we're in."

"An... an automatic weapon? Ch-chupacabra?"

"Yep! I come face-to-face with the chupacabra himself one night, whilst I was investigatin' whether this gecko was hidin' his treasure from me. He was the meanest, ugliest chupacabra you could imagine! Had two heads, and fangs down to the ground!"

"R-Really?" she squeaked.

"Best I could tell, anyways, since when he come up to me he was invisible. Had himself a blunderbuss what would rotate and shoot bullets real fast out of a backpack! Never seen nothin' like it! Walked right past me havin' an argument with somebody. But I only saw one chupacabra, so I guess the other fella had to be invisible, too. Only _more_ invisible than the other one."

She swallowed hard. She tried to tell herself that this man wasn't right in the head, but... if he was right, even remotely... this wasn't a gang of raiders torturing some brahmin ranchers...

"That's not all! People'll tell ya they seen _ghouls_ up at the rocket factory. Sensationalist hooey, cooked up by superstitious yokels, seein' phantoms of their own imaginin'."

She suppressed the urge to giggle at the old man's irony. She'd probably best humor him. "Then... what's actually at the factory, sir?"

"Ghosts! Commie ghosts what don't know they're dead! Hopin' to steal our rockets, so they can fly up and paint the moon pink, and draw a Lenin face on it. I seen one of them _disappear_ and _reappear_ before my very eyes!"

"R-Really?" she squeaked.

"Although bein' a scientist, I have to admit I might've just blinked for longer than usual, what with the shock of seein' a commie ghost and so forth."

Scientist? "Um... I think I'll be going now... M-Mr. No-Bark, s-sir..." She backed away slowly.

"If anyone asks... we never spoke."

She spun around and ran. "D-Ditto!"

XXXXXXXXXX

She stopped by the mechanic just after the sun set to check on her two robots. The man had managed to clean most of the dirt off the supercomputer robobrain, but he was still rather rusty in some places. Still, he looked nicer. She took him and Edy and went to stake out the McBrides' brahmin pen. There happened to be a boulder just on the west side of the pen, so she sat down on it and pulled out her copy of Pugilism Illustrated.

She'd apparently had this book on her person when she was first brought in by Victor. As far as she could tell, what was covered in the book was... well, familiar... but it was still all new to her. It listed various tips for unarmed combat and martial arts, like how to up your speed, how to better bypass an enemy's defenses and strike for the weak points. There was even a whole chapter dedicated to that footwork technique she used to perceive and dodge gunshots, which referred to it as the "Ali Technique" or "Ali's Footwork". So far, the book had been quite an interesting read. The first chapter alone showed her exactly how to tie boxing tape around her hands with step-by-step instructions, complete with visual aids. She'd read it cover-to-cover several times, mostly when she was recovering in bed following some injury. In particular, healing after her fight with Joe Cobb, getting her strength back after getting burned by that incinerator, and recovering from whatever knocked her out at the NCRCF. In retrospect, she had a habit of coming out of large-scale combat endeavors with some kind of injury worth a day or two of recovery. Actually, now that she though on it... That vigor tester said she had pretty low strength. So how could she break bones and fight like she could?

"What is the human reading?"

The smooth, feminine voice of her robobrain companion got her attention. She had to keep reminding herself that, despite the robobrain voice, Skynet was male... wasn't he? She was pretty sure. Not as sure as she was that Edy was female, but... Oh, right. He asked her a question.

"Pugilism Illustrated. Best I can tell, it's some kind of yearly magazine about martial arts and unarmed fighting."

"Skynet sees connection. The human fights with fisticuffs tactics. Observation... correct."

"Um... yeah. It's strange, but I had this book on me when I was found..."

"Found? The human was lost?"

"Oh, no, I mean... well, I suppose I haven't told you much about myself. I'm the Courier... I think I told you that. But it's not my real name. In fact... I don't even know my real name."

"Did the human's creators not dub the human with name for reference?"

"No, it's just... do you know what amnesia is, Skynet?"

The robot paused for a bit before he spoke again. "Definition... Amnesia. Noun. Loss of large block of interrelated memories. Complete or partial loss of memory caused by brain injury, shock, etcetera. The human has memory malfunctions? Was this caused by brain injury?"

"I suppose you could say that..." she sighed. Turning to face Skynet, she lifted her red, curly bangs to show him the scar. A ring with spikes branching off it in oblong directions. From a bullet straight to the forehead at point blank range. "I was shot twice in the head. Point blank by a pistol, wielded by a man in a checkered suit."

"Twice? Skynet only sees one case of tissue scarring. Did this other human shoot the human in same spot twice?"

"No... the other bullet went in my right eye." She shuddered, reaching a hand up to finger the bandages covering her empty socket.

"May Skynet see?"

She gave a jump, waving her arms in front of her in alarm. "No, no, no! I mean... i-it's still healing... a-and I need the bandages to protect my... my empty eye socket..." another shudder ran up her body at the thought.

"How long ago was this, human?"

"Huh? Oh, um... Well, I was shot on July eleventh... I left Goodsprings on the nineteenth... so... About two and a half weeks, I think?"

"Considering the human's forehead has healed, the human's eye is probably healed as well."

"Um... n-no, I think it needs a few more weeks."

"If the human says so."

She folded her arms over her knees, resting her head on them. To be honest... she was afraid to take off the bandages. She hadn't even changed them. She was... afraid... of what she might see under them. A bullet to the eye... that probably wasn't pretty. Considering how horrific the scar on her forehead was... she really wouldn't want to see what her eye socket looked like…

She was brought out of her thoughts just as Edy began playing that music she played when a threat was approaching. The Courier's head shot up, looking about for the source. Glancing at her Pip-boy, it seemed it was midinight on the dot. Skynet drew his gauss rifle in preparation.

"Wh-Where? I don't see anything!"

"Skynet's sensors detect nothing. But the eyebot's sensors are more advanced than Skynet's. Skynet suggests the human wait, watch, listen."

She waited, scanning the area for any sign of movement... it was a quiet night, but... she heard footsteps. Slow, calm footsteps approaching. Edy gave a mighty chirp to get her attention, and the Courier spun around to see a nightkin appear out of thin air! With a minigun!

Without thinking, she scrambled to her feet and dashed towards the super mutant, just as he was beginning to draw his minigun from his back, aimed at the brahmin in the pen. She nailed a jab at his hand, attempting to disarm his weapon, but his grip only tightened. His skin was so thick!

"Get out of my head!" he roared. His minigun opened fire... except at her! She quickly took to her footwork, but... with this many bullets sailing at her, she couldn't keep up! Ali's Footwork may have allowed her to dodge bullets, in a way... but against the automatic fire of a minigun? Sure enough, one nicked her shoulder. Another her hip. A third clipped her leg, right through her skirt. She couldn't keep this up for long!

A burst of smoke hit the super mutant in the arm, severing it. He turned and aimed his minigun at Skynet, but was hit in the leg with a laser from Edy. He turned to face her instead, his back to the Courier. This was her chance! Charging in with all her might, she jumped and nailed a flying kick right in his back. She was hoping to break his spine, but his skin really was thick! It only made him stumble forward, so he whirled around and swung his minigun at her. She was sent flying, smacking into a nearby boulder. Ugh... she felt like she'd been hit by a tank. As she crumpled to the ground, she spat out a wad of blood and pulled herself to her feet. She assessed the damage... Her left wrist was sprained and her right shoulder was dislocated. It could be worse. But she couldn't use her arms like this. If a single kick wasn't enough... she'd have to go for something stronger.

The nightkin started firing on Edy, the robot nimbly strafing back and forth, up and down to avoid the super mutant's fire. Looks like without his other arm to stabilize the minigun, his aim was off. But she needed him to face away from her again... A shot in the super mutant's shoulder from Skynet gave her the chance she needed. With a scream, she charged forward at full speed, leaping into the air and aiming both her legs forward. Both legs collided right with the nightkin's spine. When she heard an audible snap, she knew she'd done it. Next thing she felt was the air leaving her lungs as she landed hard on her back. The starry sky above got fuzzy, before her eyelids closed and she embraced the blackness.

XXXXXXXXXX

She awoke with a start. Looking under the covers, she was far more surprised than usual... For once, she actually _wasn't_ waking up naked after passing out. Her wrist was wrapped with a splint, while the nicks she'd gotten had been bandaged.

It seemed she was in some kind of tent that served as a makeshift infirmary. Edy and Skynet were nowhere to be found... but a woman in a bloodied tank top and cargo pants was sitting at a nearby table, mixing some chemicals at a chemistry set. She turned around to look at the Courier. "Oh! You're awake!" The woman ran outside. "Dusty! Alice! She's awake!"

Soon, the McBrides walked in, kneeling by her bed.

"We're real sorry you got caught up in that." Mr. McBride began, taking his hat off and directing his gaze downward, apologetic.

"It's okay, Mr. McBride. No one is going to attack your corral from now on."

"Yep. I'm just sorry you had to get hurt. I'm not sure how to thank you, so take this, compliments of Alice and myself."

He handed her... well, a bit more than a handful of bottlecaps. "But... But Mr. McBride, I can't accept this!"

"Nonsense." Alice asserted. "In fact, stop by our house later for a good steak dinner. We got more in our freezer than we can eat ourselves, what with all the brahmin been killed."

She smiled at the couple. "I guess I could stop by for a home cooked dinner. But... what happened after I passed out?"

"Well, when we heard the gunfire stop, we stepped outside to find you passed out with a dead super mutant. Your robot helped us carry you to Dr. Straus's medical tent."

"Um... Doctor Straus?"

"She's a travelin' doctor who's been stayin' in town for about a year now. That's her over yonder."

"You came in with a dislocated shoulder, sprained wrist, and some flesh wounds. I think I did alright. I mean, what were the odds of me botching another routine procedure in the same day?"

The Courier cringed. "Um, so, Mr. McBride, Mrs. McBride... what happened with the nightkin?"

"Oh. We found this on its person." Dusty handed her a holotape. She loaded it into her Pip-boy. Most of it was a mess of incomprehensible psychotic gibberish. But it seemed to express a general frustration toward the McBrides' brahmin, who were supposedly keeping the nightkin awake at night by screaming inside his head whenever he closed his eyes.

"That poor creature..." she mumbled.

"What?" Alice questioned.

"Um, no, nevermind." Her stomach growled.

"We'd best get some brahmin steak in you, huh?" Dusty joked.

The Courier giggled and accepted. She enjoyed a lunch of brahmin steak before setting off to the REPCONN facility. She needed to investigate those ghouls for Manny.

XXXXXXXXXX

She set off down the road to the REPCONN facility, and found a dead glowing one just on the road between Novac and the canyon the road lead into. It seemed that even after death, a glowing one still emitted radiation, judging from the ticking on the Geiger counter of her Pip-Boy. She pressed on.

Soon, after entering the canyon, she was charged by a feral ghoul... this one alive! A double hook and a knee to the thing's stomach, and it was down. It seemed the ghoul had been attacking a mole rat, judging by the dead one just ahead by the REPCONN billboard. A few bottlecaps were in the pockets of what was left of the ghoul's clothes, which she pocketed.

Just up ahead, she was able to see the chain fence and barricades in front of the REPCONN facility. And she was charged by no less than five feral ghouls, one of which was a glowing one!

"Edy! Skynet! Take out the glowing one before he can emit a radiation burst, then focus on separate targets!" she barked. Edy beeped in response, while Skynet merely drew his gauss rifle and took aim.

The Courier charged in and nailed the ghoul in front with a flying jump kick, sending it to the ground. She swept the legs out from under the ghoul right behind it, just as the glowing one in the group was felled by an electromagnetically propelled slug and laser beam to the head. She ended her second ghoul with a stomp to the head, just as Edy and Skynet took out the remaining two ghouls. Good thing she left Betsy back in Novac. The poor girl would be so spooked by all this...

She passed a guard station further in, going through a tunnel and passing several wrecked cars. Just as the Courier and her companions exited the tunnel, they were set upon by more feral ghouls. Just two this time. Edy and Skynet took them out pretty fast. But she was quite surprised by the dead nightkin that was laying in the middle of the road. It looked like he was killed by serious laser fire. He even dropped the rebar club he'd been wielding. Whoever shot the lasers was nowhere in sight, but... she had to wonder what a nightkin was doing here, and who it was with the high-powered laser weapon.

A bit further ahead she found some kind of camp made from wrecked cars and sandbags. There was a single dead nightkin there, also killed by heavy laser fire, but just past him was a dead ghoul, along with another dead ghoul in the camp, on the ground by a table. Both were dressed in strange green robes, the same robe she saw on the dead ghoul at Primm Pass. The one in the camp had a recharger pistol, but the one in the road was clutching some sort of... strange weapon. It looked a bit like some kind of assault rifle... but it had some glowing red parts.

"What's this?" she asked Skynet, pointing to it.

"Laser rapid capacitor weapon. Or laser RCW. It is essentially a laser assault rifle, comparable to a compact, weaker laser gatling."

"So... despite the feral ghouls we've run into, there's some regular ghouls here as well? With high-powered energy weapons? And they're fighting off nightkin?"

"Evidence suggests human is correct." The robobrain replied.

"Hm..." was the Courier's only response. She pressed on further into the facility compound.

XXXXXXXXXX

She finally came upon the actual facility, with the huge rocket statue in the courtyard. No sooner had she neared this statue, than her group was set upon by four feral ghouls, one of which was a glowing one. Again, she had Edy and Skynet team up on the glowing one before he could release a radiation burst, while she charged in and brought one of the ghouls down with a double hook, knee combo. She took down a second one with a leg sweep and an uppercut just as the fourth ghoul was killed with another laser shot from Edy.

She found yet more dead ghouls in green robes littering the courtyard, all armed with energy weapons. Mostly recharger pistols, but one actually had a plasma defender! If a squad of nightkin really had assaulted the facility, most of them were probably inside by now. She made her way up the steps, finding two more feral ghouls, which Edy and Skynet quickly subdued, before finally making her way into the REPCONN building through the front door.

XXXXXXXXXX

The moment she stepped into the building, a raspy voice blared at her. "Hey! Over here! Are you listening?" She gave a jump at the surprise, but saw the voice seemed to be coming from an intercom on the wall. "Go to the big room on the east side of this building and take the metal staircase all the way up. And hurry!"

"Um... wh-who are you?" she asked into the device.

"Who I am doesn't matter, smoothskin. Stop wasting time and get up here." The raspy voice ordered.

"Smoothskin?" Skynet questioned.

"Um... i-it's just what some ghouls call humans, Skynet."

"Bring the robots with you! Just hurry! Find the metal staircase in the big room on the east side of the building. It's where they used to make rockets." the voice on the intercom demanded.

"Um... b-but I-"

"Big room. Metal staircase. East side of the building. Is that too many syllables for you?"

"Um... n-no. I'll go right now, s-sir."

"Get moving."

Well, the rudeness of that person aside, she seemed to be in a visitor's center at the front of the building. But... she doubted the dead nightkin and dead ghoul in the green robe were meant by the decorators to make people feel welcome. But on the dead nightkin she found, surprisingly enough, a stealth boy! She quickly pocketed it. With her memories of the world's lore still intact, she knew how useful, and rare, these things were. It was just as she stood up that Edy's music started playing. Sure enough, a ghoul rushed her from a nearby doorway. The Courier responded with a solid kick to the thing's stomach, then a roundhouse kick to his head, snapping his neck. Two more doors flew open, with a feral ghoul running in from both of them, one of which was a glowing one! Skynet and Edy both fired on it at once. Seemed they were getting the drill. She jumped in and kicked the regular feral ghoul in the chest, shattering his ribs. She put him out of his misery with a stomp to the head.

That seemed to be it for the feral ghouls. At least for now. She took the time to look around the visitor's center and found... little of interest, really. The two doors two of the feral ghouls had come out of turned out to be bathrooms, while the door between them was locked. She gave it a shake, but to no avail.

"Skynet, can you pick locks?" she asked the robobrain.

"Negative. Skynet could shoot down door, though."

"No, no, no! It's okay! I don't want to bring the entire building down, okay Skynet?"

"Skynet understands."

Whew... Well, whatever was in that room, it probably didn't matter right now. For now, she'd best head to the east side of the building and see what this man on the intercom wanted.

Heading through the door on the east side of the room, at least according to her compass, she went down a hall and came upon a bear trap, just as the hallway turned. Edy easily floated over it, and the Courier lightly stepped around it, but she had to carefully help maneuver her robobrain companion around the trap. Luckily, it was close to the wall. Despite his treads, Skynet had no problem going up the stairs at the end of the hall.

The stairs deposited her on a balcony, with a dead ghoul in a green robe greeting her. She had to wonder about the uniform. Were they a cult, or something? This one had another laser rapid capacitor weapon on him, but he also had a stimpak and some bottlecaps, both of which she pocketed. She really didn't feel right stealing from the dead... but that stimpak might save her life later. And he wasn't going to use it now, right?

The Courier went through the double doors to the east, turning down a hallway that passed a break room with some vending machines. It was tempting, but she wasn't really thirsty, to be honest. She still had some clean water in her trusty Vault 13 canteen.

Deeper inside, she passed another dead ghoul in a green robe, but then she noticed her Pip-Boy's Geiger Counter was registering a slight radiation in the area. Hm... she'd have to inject some Radaway when she was out of here. She'd pop some Rad-X right now, but she wanted to save it in case there were higher radiation levels deeper in the building.

The hallway deposited her into a ruined office room, past a dead nightkin and another dead ghoul in a green robe, then finally into a factory room. There were two glowing ones wandering the grounds to their right, but the Courier just ordered her companions to quietly follow her to the big metal staircase. Skynet had some trouble during the breaks between stairs where the platform was a flat plane, but with some help he made it up okay. They passed yet another dead ghoul in a green robe, before finally coming to a locked door. The intercom on the wall next to her blared to life, making her jump.

"All right, smoothskin, I'm letting you in. You better watch yourself. I'll sure as hell be watching you." The door clicked, so she took a deep breath, turned the handle, and stepped inside.

XXXXXXXXXX

The moment she stepped through the door, it gave way from metal-built factory to tiled floors and walls. And just down the hall was a balding man with a mustache, dressed in a lab coat.

"God, but are you ugly!" was the first thing he said to her. "Get upstairs and talk to Jason before I throw up just from looking at you."

She shrunk back in fright, nearly bumping into Skynet. "But... but you aren't a ghoul, s-sir!"

"Your pranks won't work on me, smoothskin. They won't work on Jason, either."

"Um... s-smoothskin? But... But sir, uh-"

"It's Chris Haversam, smoothskin. Now stop wasting my time. Go waste Jason's."

He turned around and walked through the door behind him. The Courier nervously followed after him. He led her through another room, passing a ghoul in a green robe... this time alive, and led her up a small set of stairs, then around and into another room. This almost looked like some kind of laboratory, with the large machines, broken computers, and chemistry sets all around. It was when the Geiger counter on her Pip-Boy started ticking that she spun around and came face-to-face with... with... a glowing one! But... this one was wearing clothes... well, tattered clothes, but not like the rags most feral ghouls and glowing ones wore. He wasn't attacking her, so... w-was he really a non-feral glowing one?

"Hello wanderer." he said to her, his voice gentle, save for an odd echo to it. It was also oddly smooth for a ghoul. "Please forgive us our humble surroundings. Our true home awaits us in the Far Beyond. Have you come to help us complete the Great Journey?"

"Um... uh... uh... Wh-Who are you?" she stammered, her knees trembling.

"I am Jason Bright, the prophet of the Great Journey. All the ghouls you see here are members of my flock."

"Um... y-your name is... J-Jason Bright?"

"An auspicious name, don't you think? It was mine before I became as I am now. Before the Great War, even. Truly does the creator author a destiny for each and every one of us..."

"Um... a-a human let me in. H-He seemed to think he was a ghoul..."

"You're referring to Chris. I doubt you had much luck if you tried telling him that he's human. We had the same discussions when he first appeared, and the same lack of success. He believes he is one of us. Soon enough we realized that Chris was a gift from the creator. He is integral to the success of the Great Journey."

"Uh... what's the Great Journey, Mr. Bright, s-sir?" she asked. His voice was gentle... her nerves were starting to settle.

"We wish to escape the barbarity of the wasteland, especially the _violence_ and _bigotry_ of its human inhabitants. The creator has promised to my flock a new land... A place of safety and healing... a paradise in the Far Beyond. Preparations for the Great Journey were nearly complete when the demons appeared."

"Huh? Um... h-how do you plan to make this uh... j-journey?"

"The means by which the Great Journey is to be accomplished are an article of faith... not to be discussed with outsiders."

Ouch... she felt... oddly bad about herself... "Um... wh-what is the... the Far Beyond?"

"I have glimpsed it only in visions, wanderer, but what I have seen is _truly_ miraculous. It is a place of _light_ and _healing_. And I know in my soul that my flock will be safe there. Have you come to aid us, wanderer? We need your help."

"Um... I'm h-here because f-feral ghouls have b-been wandering int-to Novac, s-sir!" she stammered.

"And they've been shooting them down like animals, haven't they?" the glowing one asked, disappointment in his voice. "Those ghouls were members of my flock, even after the madness consumed their minds. We never let them wander free. We kept them safe on the first floor. We kept them _contained_. The _demons_ must have let them out, somehow. And now they are lost forever, denied the salvation and healing glow of the Far Beyond. Please, wanderer. Bear in mind that every feral ghoul you spare now is one that we can save later. Once the way is clear, our feral brothers and sisters will accompany us on the Great Journey. If there are any left..."

"Um... you keep mentioning demons... c-could you mean the nightkin?"

"The demons appeared from nowhere... Except it might be more accurate to say they never actually 'appeared' at all. The demons are invisible. Where one of them stands, the most one sees is the air shimmering, like sunlight on water... They set upon us as we were on our way to worship one morning. We had just entered the basement. My flock fought bravely, and killed a few... but at such cost. Nearly half of us died or went missing. The rest of us retreated up here. One of the demons _raved_ at us, but they have not tried to attack us since. Still, their demonic presence brought all progress towards the Great Journey to a standstill. But now _you_ have come. Once again, the creator has sent a human to help us across a seemingly insurmountable obstacle."

She smiled up at the glowing one, albeit a weak smile. "I'll try my best to help, Mr. Bright. Um... you said one of the demons, uh... _raved_ at you?"

"Yes, over the intercom. Threats of death should we step outside, guarantees of safety should we stay locked away. It went on for hours, and did not always make sense. But that was the first day only. Since then... silence. Will you drive away the demons, wanderer?"

The Courier smiled up at the glowing one. "Of course. I'll do whatever I can to help, Mr. Bright, sir."

"Praise the creator! Bless you, wanderer. Bless us all!" She blushed, suppressing a tiny giggle. "As soon as the underground has been rid of demons, preparations for the Great Journey can resume. Take this, wanderer." He handed her a key. "It is for the basement. Go now, wanderer. Please rid us of the demons."

She decided to leave Skynet and Edy upstairs with Jason Bright and his Followers. They promised they could give them both a tune-up while she was gone. The Courier was sure these nightkin could be reasoned with, so she'd go in alone.

XXXXXXXXXX

The basement was dark. Very dark. She could've turned on her Pip-Boy light, but her intuition was telling her sneaking would be a better option. She popped a Cateye and crouched down low, making her way down a flight of stairs to a large room. She noticed a shimmering figure of light pass by the doorway in front of her, so she waited until he left before she hung a left. She soon came to a peculiar sight. A Nightkin at a table, surrounded by damaged books, with a brahmin skull sitting on the coffee maker near him.

"What's that, Antler? We have a visitor?" the Nightkin asked. He was the only one in the room. Was he talking to her? "An assassin, more like! I say kill it, Antler. For safe's sake!" She swallowed hard. "Hmmm?... Okay, Antler. I'll ask. Uh... Hi, human. Why you come here?"

"Um... I'm the Courier, sir. Who are you?"

"Me? I am devoted to Antler. But before Antler? Hmm... Captain, once. Last name Davison. First name... Don't remember. I commanded a troop of Nightkin. The Master's elite. Very proud. Something happened... We wandered the desert... Life without Master was... hard. The others' minds going strange, going crazy! But then, I found us new master. I found us Antler! Since then, everything's been going... _really_ well."

"Um... Are you alright? You sound... strange."

"I am in command of my faculties! In command of my troops! Antler guides me in all things! As I in turn guide my kin!"

"Um... Who's Antler, sir?"

"Who is Antler? Who is Antler?!" She swallowed hard. "Antler, the human asks about you! What do I tell it? All right... All right. Yes, yes, of course." She released a held-in breath. "Who Antler is, not important to you. Antler wants that _you_ deal with _me_."

"Um... Is Antler the brahmin skull over there, Mr. Davison, sir?"

"Cut it out, human. Serious. Final warning."

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry!" she nearly cried.

"Sorry? Sorry?! What? Fine, fine. Antler forgives you." She let out a sigh of relief. "Now why you come here, human?"

"Um... I'm here on behalf of the ghouls upstairs, Mr. Davison, sir."

"A human who is friend to ghouls? Suspicious... You mean the ones upstairs. Antler used intercom, told them stay put. But they want to come down in basement anyways? I cannot allow. My kin are... not right in head like I am. They attack you on sight. Ghouls too. They crazy! Your ghoul friends have to wait until we find what Antler brought us to get."

"Um... Maybe I can help you, Mr. Davison, sir. A-And Antler. Help Antler as well."

"Good. Antler brought us here for a reason... Uh, why was that, Antler?... Right! A piece of paper! Shipment invoice. Hundreds of Stealth Boys, sent here a long time ago. But Stealth Boys must be in the one room, one we don't search yet. The one we can't search."

"Why can't you search it, Mr. Davison, sir?"

"A ghoul. But not _squishy_ like others. This ghoul is tough. I thought Antler said send my kin into that room, but three died. Ghoul is a crack shot, set traps too! After, I realize I heard Antler wrong. So I lock the door to keep kin out and wait for Antler to tell me what to do. Then, you come along! Antler says _you_ are _solution_!"

"Don't worry, Mr. Davison, sir. I won't let Antler down."

"Good! Good! Antler likes what he hears! Antler says we leave as soon as we get Stealth Boys. Let me give you key. Antler had me lock the door. The ghoul inside not expecting a human. Maybe, he don't shoot you. Maybe he will."

She swallowed hard and took the key from Davison, unnerved by the size of his hand compared to hers. She left the room and hung a right, passing a dead Nightkin and unlocking the door.

"Come and get it you big dumb- Hey! You're not one of those things out there. Who the hell are you?"

A ghoul in a big coat greeted her. He was up on a rafter, holding a battle rifle at the ready.

"Um... I'm the Courier, sir. Mr. Bright set me here to get rid of the Nightkin." She called up to him.

"And I bet he told you it's the creator's will for you to risk your ass, instead of him, right? Well, good luck with that! I'd give you a hand, but no thanks. I may look like a corpse, but I'm partial to living."

"Um... You're not dressed like the other Bright Followers, sir."

"I never did buy into that religious mumbo-jumbo with the robes and all that shit. It gets lonely out the wastes, okay? And I don't have to tell you that Bright's group has got some fine-looking ghoulettes in it! Eh... Or maybe I _would_ have to tell you. Anyway, I helped them out, and they kept me supplied with ammo and pleasant company."

A shiver ran up and down her spine. She wasn't sure why. He seemed nice enough. "How did you end up trapped down here, sir?"

"First off, I'm not trapped. This was a tactical choice, all right? I'm no match for those things out there, so I found a good defensive position, and I've been defending it, right?... Aw, who am I foolin'. I'm trapped. Name's Harland. Pleased to meet you. What happened was, I was escorting folks down to work when those things attacked us. Most of the fight was upstairs, but some folks panicked and made for the basement. And I went after 'em. Well, turns out there were even more of those bastards down here than upstairs, and things went to shit fast. I couldn't find the others, so I fell back to this room and set up a nice little kill zone. End of story."

"How have you survived, Mr. Harland, sir?"

"Just Harland. And I'm not delicate. Radroach meat for protein, condensation off the pipes for water, Jet to pass the time, and I do my business over in the far corner. I wouldn't say it's been comfy."

"Is there any way I can help get you out of here, Harland, sir?"

"Ha! Well you're polite, I'll give you that. If this was just between you and me, I'd do as you ask. But it's not. I had a friend with me when those... mutant bastards came outta nowheres. She panicked and ran the wrong direction, further into the basement. She's probably dead, but I ain't leavin' until I know for sure. I'd have gone lookin' myself, except I wouldn't last a minute out there. You, on the other hand, seem pretty resourceful. Find my friend, and I'll get out of you way."

She smiled up at him. "Don't worry, Harland, sir. I'll find your friend."

He chuckled a little. Was he surprised she was so eager to help? Or amused, maybe. "Thanks. Lemme know what you find out. Here's hoping she's okay."

She returned to Davison. "Antler sings for Stealth Boys! You find them yet?"

"Not yet, but I need to ask something, Mr. Davison, sir."

"What you need? Antler grows impatient!"

"Did you see a female ghoul down here about the time you came?"

"Yes! She in jail right now."

"Really? She's still alive? Can you let her out? Please?"

"Why, human? Is this trick?"

"Just trust me, it'll help you get the Stealth Boys."

"No! I no fool for your... What? Fine, fine. Antler say ghoul goes free. Here is key to jail. If my kin see you, tell them you are servant of Antler, and they leave you alone."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Davison, sir!"

"Go now!"

She swallowed hard and left. She came upon her first of Davison's kin, who appeared before her and raised a rebar club to strike her with. She took a deep breath and held her arms out above her head. "I am a servant of Antler! Friend of Davison! Strike _me_ down and Antler will strike _you_ down!"

To her surprise, the Nightkin paused, blinked a few times, and lowered his rebar club. He stepped aside, grumbling to himself. She was honestly surprised it worked. She nearly wet herself, she was so scared.

She passed four more Nightkin, one equipped with a flamer. She found the cell and looked in to see a female ghoul in a green robe turn to look at her. "Who are you? You're not one of the demons."

"There'll be time to talk later. Just know I'm a friend of Harland's."

Her face brightened. "Harland set you?"

"Yes. Just follow me and stick close behind. Don't say anything to the Nightkin we pass. Just let me talk to them."

"Um... Sure. Whatever you say."

She made the gauntlet through the basement again, the taller woman close behind her. The Courier had to admit, she could see why Harland wanted her back. For a ghoul, she still had most of her hair. And it seemed she altered her robe to show more leg and reveal quite a bit of impressive cleavage. The Courier didn't find ghouls all that ugly, but she had to admit that this one was really pretty. She was brought out of her thoughts by their first Nightkin.

"I am a servant of Antler! Friend of Davison! Antler commands that this ghoul be released from her prison! Strike _me_ down and Antler shall strike _you_ down!"

Again, she was surprised it worked, and was scared out of her mind the entire time she said it. The Nightkin let them pass, though she grabbed Harland's friend's hand to make sure she didn't lag behind.

"Wow. That was theatrical. You weren't scared of that demon?"

The Courier managed a weak chuckle. "I was terrified, actually."

"You must be a good actor. What's your name?"

"I'm the Courier. You are?"

"Maple. And I meant your name, not your occupation."

"Well... it's a long story, but I lost my memory. All I know is that I'm a courier for the Mojave Express."

"Geez. That totally sucks."

She giggled. "Thanks. I think."

They finally made it to the room Harland was holed up in. "Did you find my-" he paused when he saw her waving up at him. "Shit! I honestly didn't think she made it! I owe you big time, kid! You did your part, so I'll do mine. Feel free to look around up here. We're going to make a break for topside."

Harland clambered down the steps and ran off, grabbing his friend's hand as he passed her, albeit without so much as looking at the Courier. Maple blew her a kiss goodbye, making the Courier blush.

There were some traps all around the room, but she avoided them and eventually came upon a computer terminal. It seemed the Stealth Boys were shipped here by mistake, and were shipped back before the war. She'd have to go tell Davison. She made her way back down the stairs from the rafters and back to where Davison was waiting.

"Antler sings for Stealth Boys. Have you found them?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Davison, sir, but there is no stockpile of Stealth Boys in this building." She told him, her legs trembling. She was afraid how he would react...

"Liar! The invoice said Stealth Boys here! Antler read it out loud to me!"

She shrunk back in fright, whimpering. "I'm sorry! But the Stealth Boys were sent here by mistake, then sent back! P-Please believe me!"

"But invoice note said Stealth Boys were here! Why can't that note be true? What, Antler?... But human could be lying. Stealing the Stealth Boys for itself!... Oh, Antler... You trust so easy. Your lucky day, human. Antler believe you. Nightkin will follow the new note to find Stealth Boys. Better be there." The Nightkin grabbed the brahmin skull off the coffee maker and walked out of the room.

The Courier breathed a sigh of relief. Whether Antler was really a god or just a voice inside Davison's head, it looked like he could be reasoned with. At least, more so than Davison himself. Her job done and the Nightkin retreating, the Courier returned to Jason Bright.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Is the way clear?" the glowing one asked her as she approached.

She smiled up at him. "Of course. The nighk- I mean, demons, are gone."

"Praise the creator! And bless you, wanderer!" She blushed. "The way is clear. I will lead my flock through the basement to the sacred site. Come, wanderer. There is much to be done. We may need your help again."

"I'm happy to help, Mr. Bright, sir."

The glowing one led his people and the Courier back down to the basement, through the door behind where Davison had set himself up. She was surprised when Jason flipped an electrical switch on the wall, opening up a hidden passage in the floor. It led to a series of pipes that eventually led to the control room up above a large circular room with three rockets. The ghouls donned red space suits and climbed into a nearby hatch. Jason, however, turned to her.

"I wanted to speak with you one last time before I descended to the launch pad, wanderer. I want you to know that we will remember for all eternity how you delivered us to the threshold of the Great Journey." She blushed. Jason's praise had a way of making her do that. "Our preparations are nearly complete, but the rockets that will carry us to salvation are yet missing vital components. If you would still help us, wanderer, speak to Chris. He can tell you what is missing. There is no way that we can thank you enough, wanderer. Your arrival here was a blessing. We will remember you always."

"Th-Thank you, Mr. Bright, sir. I'm happy to help you make the Great Journey. But... are you really using those rockets, Mr. Bright, sir?"

"Yes. The rockets will convey us to our promised land in the Far Beyond. Vision upon vision has confirmed it."

"Um... Are you sure you won't crash? I'd hate to see all your preparation end in disaster..."

"I appreciate your concerns, friend, and I thank you for voicing them. But the creator's will for us has been made manifest."

"Well, you seem to know what you're doing."

"We have Chris to thank for that."

"Um... What can you tell me about Mr. Haversam, Mr. Bright, sir?"

"After all that you have done for us, I suppose you deserve to know everything... When Chris came to us, we tried to convince him that he was human. But this only angered him. He seemed... lost. We decided to let him stay with us for a few days, over the course of which we learned that his technical skills far surpassed our own. It became clear that the creator had sent him to us, to ensure the success of the Great Journey. Equally clear was that Chris should labor in blessed ignorance of his humanity, and his inability to make the journey himself. It is no coincidence that two humans have been vital to the success of the Great Journey. It is my belief that the creator sent you, and Chris to expiate the sins of your kind against mine. You are redeemers both."

"S-So you're going to leave Mr. Haversam behind, Mr. Bright, sir?"

"Such is the creator's will. Vision upon vision has shown me that, were Chris to accompany us, he would die in minutes. The radiation around the launch pad alone would kill Chris in minutes. The radioactivity of the Far Beyond is _much_ stronger."

She frowned. "I hope I'm misinterpreting this, but... have you just been _using_ Mr. Haversam?"

"It is the creator's will, and I must submit. There is no malice in it. We would take him with us if we _could_."

She sighed. "If you say so, Mr. Bright. But I really think you should tell him."

"Do not fear. I plan to tell Chris before our launch, wanderer."

"Okay. I don't think he'll take it too well, but it'll be better if he hears it from you than me, Mr. Bright."

"Thank you for your understanding, wanderer. Such compassion is rare in this world, even rarer from your kind. Forgive me, wanderer. But my flock awaits."

Jason left down the hatch, and Chris soon walked up to her from the hallway.

"Jason says that I am to cooperate with you on the final tasks necessary to launch of the Great Journey."

She smiled up at him. "I'll help however I can, Mr. Haversam, sir. But... are you really going to use those rockets?"

"Obviously. It's taken months, but I've nearly got them in working order. Soon they'll take us to the Far Beyond. I was skeptical at first, of course, being a man of science. But Jason is certain, and I believe in Jason."

"Um... You're a scientist? I mean, I'm sure you are from how you're dressed, I just want to confirm, Mr. Haversam, sir."

"Specifically, I'm the flock's resident engineer. I've always been good with machines. Jason says the Great Journey would've been impossible without me. Though, they don't let me down on the launch pad. When I joined the flock, Jason made it clear that he wanted me to supervise the repairs, not do them myself. It would be a waste of my gifts to work on just one system at a time. From up here, I've been able to supervise the entire project. Of course, my skills aren't much use unless I have the right materials. That's where you come in."

"I'm happy to help, Mr. Haversam, sir. What do you need?"

"I was close to completing work on the rockets before we were driven into hiding on the top floor. Two components were missing. A quantity of Isotope-239 igniting agent, and a set of thrust control modules. The igniting agent is highly radioactive, and decays quickly. That's why we can't use the drums that leaked down on the launch pad. It's no longer potent enough. I need you to find an intact, shielded container of the igniting agent. As for the thrust control modules, they were custom-built for these rockets. They won't even launch without them."

"Where should I look for the igniting agent, Mr. Haversam, sir?"

"We don't need a huge amount. Two to three liters should be enough. I'd start by visiting any local junk merchants or traders and see if that turns anything up."

"And the thrust control modules?"

"REPCONN has been ransacked so many times by scavengers, it's hard to know where the components might turn up. _If_ they turn up. But scavengers wouldn't know the value of the modules just by looking at them. If you know any junk dealers in the area, I'd start there."

"Okay. I'll be on my way." She turned to Skynet. "Skynet, stay here and help Mr. Haversam with anything he needs. Science, equations, chemicals, that sort of thing. I'll take Edy and head for that scrap yard in Novac."

"If that is what the human wishes." the Robobrain replied.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Hi there. I'm Old Lady Gibson, or so they tell me. I've got odds and ends for sale, and I'm pretty good at fixing things, too."

At first, the Courier was surprised by the sheer number of dogs Old Lady Gibson had wandering around her scrapyard. But seeing that she was the only human living there, she probably needed the company.

"You might have noticed the very large building north of here. That's HELIOS One. The NCR runs the place, so it's off-limits to prospectors."

"Um... HELIOS One?"

"The way I heard it, the Brotherhood of Steel ran the place before the NCR took it away from them. I'm not sure who started shooting first. But when it was over, the Brotherhood, with all their fancy armor and weapons, was on the run. Nobody's heard from them since."

"Oh, um... So you were a prospector? Like digging for gold and silver?"

"No, no. Most people call it salvaging, but some don't like the term. To them, salvaging implies it's worthless. Prospector's look for the good stuff, like chems, spare parts, and working tech."

"Oh. Did you ever prospect at REPCONN?"

"Sometimes it seems like I spent the better portion of my youth in that old wreck of a building. Me and my hubby, may the man rest in peace, used to scavenge there. If it weren't bolted down, you can bet we took it and sold it. A lot of the scrap you see around here is from REPCONN, even my favorite chair."

She looked down at the chair. It looked a little like an O-shaped rocket. And she seemed to recall that the REPCONN sign was missing an O. She shook the thoughts from her head, her face brightening. "Really? Do you have any thrust control modules from REPCONN in stock, Ms. Gibson, ma'am?"

"As it so happens I _do_ have some thrust modules, but they're expensive. Five hundred caps worth of expensive."

"Great! Thanks so much!"

Five hundred caps was about half her money, but this would be worth it. She payed the woman, who went inside and returned with the modules. The Courier stuffed them in her backpack. But then, Edy's speaker flared up. The Courier turned to hear a male voice coming from her.

"Subject E, diagnosis complete. Begin recording. My name is Whitely. I'm a researcher at Adams Air Force Base. Until recently I was in charge of the Duraframe reinforcement project for the combat model Eyebots. Eyebot Duraframe Subject E is both the prototype, and the last functional model in this test group. I was prepared to make several significant upgrades to the machines. However, as the project was cancelled and all Duraframe assets are being diverted to Hellfire Armor, I am sending this model to the Navarro outpost. If you are listening to this log from one of our Enclave Outposts in Chicago, give this unit whatever repairs it needs so it can continue to Navarro."

Okay, that was weird. "What was that all about?" The Courier wondered aloud.

"From the sound of it, I'd say you've stumbled upon an Enclave Eyebot." Old Lady Gibson pointed out.

"Enclave?"

"The remnants of the Pre-War United States government. Several years back, they tried to take over the west coast and wipe out most of the people there, but a tribal and his small ragtag group managed to blow up their base, scattering the Enclave remnants to the wind."

"Um... Ragtag group?"

"Yep. From what I heard, the tribal had recruited a trader mechanic, a scarred old man, a seductive woman he married, a more primitive tribal, a ghoul doctor, a super mutant, a talking deathclaw, a robobrain, and a cyberdog."

"Wow. That's quite a diverse group. But... judging from the Illinois license plate on Edy's side, she must have made it to Chicago..."

"Either that or an Enclave member has a weird sense of humor." Old Lady Gibson chuckled.

"Wait a minute... Eyebot Duraframe Subject E? E-D-E... I guess the name I got off the license plate wasn't that far off..."

"Seems like it. Now, anything else I can help you with?"

She blushed, embarrassed that she had gotten so easily distracted. "Um, yes... D-Did you ever salvage any containers of radioactive material from REPCONN?"

"Certainly did. Hubby and I had an old rad meter to help us tell the difference between what you could salvage and what'd kill you. I've kept a glowing container from REPCONN around here for years serving no better purpose than a nightlight."

"Really?" she nearly shouted. Imagine her luck! Both components in the same place! "C-Could I buy it from you? Please?"

"Well, that's just the thing. Damn thing wouldn't sell. Then comes the most peculiar-looking fellow, all decked out in a yellow radiation suit, of which he was proud all out of proportion. The man outright asked if I had anything radioactive for sale. Imagine that! But he paid handsome for that jar of goop. Only saw him that once. He said something about heading over to Clark Field to put his suit through its paces. A strange one, he was."

"Oh." Her face fell.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. Maybe if you follow him to Clark Field, you can work out a deal with him."

"Okay. Thank you, Ms. Gibson."

"Anytime, sweetie."

XXXXXXXXXX

The Courier knew she was approaching the crumbling ruins of Clark Field when the rad meter on her Pip-Boy started to tick. Soon she was rushed by a golden gecko! Edy fired at it with her laser, but more appeared from the rubble. The Courier handily dispatched them, albeit not without difficulty. It seemed golden geckos just loved lairing in radioactive places. Soon she spotted something yellow on the road. She ran up to find a man in a yellow radiation suit, dead. Next to him was a piece of paper and a glowing container. She took a look at what the note said.

XXXXXXXXXX

Day 1: Love the suit. Can scavenge anywhere now, screw the rads. I hereby christen myself Mr. RADical. Get it? Ha!

Day 4: Suit passed first test with flying (yellow) colors. Overnight visit to Yucca Mountain. Didn't go too deep because something big moving down tunnel. Rad level high even where I was, and I didn't feel a tickle. Go, rad suit, go!

Day 5: Vomited all morning. Didn't splash on suit or I'd be pissed. Must be something I ate.

Day 9: Exciting! Ran across old woman's scrap yard. Bought glowing container for measly 50 caps. Heading for Clark Field to prove suit at higher rad levels. If it holds up, I'm going to pop this jar of goop open and pour it all over me! I bet I could swim in this stuff if I had enough of it! Oh yeah!

XXXXXXXXXX

Poor fool. What he mistook for food poisoning was really radiation sickness. Radiation suits don't nullify radiation. They only hamper it. If he had known that, he might have lived. If she had her shovel from Betsy, she could give him a quick burial, but she didn't, so she just laid him out in a more respectable death position, as opposed to sprawled out on his stomach like she found him.

XXXXXXXXXX

She returned to the REPCONN test site and made her way down to see Chris.

"Have you found the components we discussed?" he asked.

"Yep! I found a set of thrust control modules and a whole container of Isotope-239 igniting agent!" The Courier set her backpack on the ground and knelt down to remove the items, handing them to Chris.

"Indeed you did. The modules seem in excellent condition. And the container's shielding must be intact, or you'd be dead by now." She swallowed hard. Chris handed the parts to a nearby ghoul in a red spacesuit, who clambered down the nearby hatch to get them in place.

"Um... Where'd you find those space suits, Chris?"

"Huh? Oh, we found them here. There's one over on that shelf if you want it."

"R-Really? Th-Thank you so so so much!" She ran up and hugged the man. He shifted uncomfortably and pushed her away from him.

"Uh, yeah. You're welcome."

"The rockets are set to go now, right?" the Courier asked.

"Yes! I'll tell Jason that the Great Journey can begin."

"Um... Mr. Haversam, I don't know much about you. Can you tell me a bit about yourself?"

The engineer sighed. "I was human once, you know. Grew up in Vault 34, northeast of here. Nice upbringing, if you like assault rifles and target practice. But oh, you prefer machines that don't shoot people? Not so nice, then. Who should maintain the Vault's reactor? Houser? Mitchell? No, make it Haversam. He likes machines! Haversam won't mind getting irradiated! Haversam won't mind mutating! He's already ugly as it is! Haversam won't mind when his hair starts falling out after a few years. There's no connection, Haversam! You're neurotic!"

She was taken aback a bit. "Um... You left your Vault because you were going bald?"

"Bald? You call this bald, smoothskin? I'm a monster! A monster!"

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry, Mr. Haversam, sir!"

"Whatever." He sighed. "Humans." He walked over to the nearby intercom. "We have everything we need to launch the rockets, Jason! The Great Journey can begin!"

The ghouls in space suits gathered around Jason in front of the rockets, who began preaching.

"Gather, all! May the creator guide my words and help me speak true! The almighty creator has seen fit to answer our prayers! The time has come for us to board the rockets, and begin the Great Journey. Though it may seem that all humans _despise_ us, the creator has seen fit to instruct us differently. The journey ahead would have been impossible, if not for the intercession of _two_ human friends. One new, the other a long-abiding companion. To our new friend, we say thanks, and promise never to forget how she cleared from our path the demons who sought to stay our journey. And to Chris, we owe more than thanks. Chris, you have made this Great Journey a reality. From this moment forward, you will be remembered as the _Saint_ of the Great Journey. We shall never forget you. I ask that you forgive us, Chris, and give us your blessing, and we bestow ours upon you. Seekers, board the rockets! Take your seats! The Great Journey awaits! To the promised land we go! To the Far Beyond!"

The ghouls dispersed, making last-minute preparation for the launch. The Courier turned to Chris to see a distant look in his eyes. She reached up to place a hand on his shoulder.

"Did you hear him? My god, you were right all along! I'm no ghoul! They were just... using me..."

"They'd take you if they could, Chris, but you'd die." she soothed.

"And dying would be worse than this? Used up and thrown away like garbage?"

"But they're going to revere you as a Saint, Chris! You should be happy for that."

"Oh, so I've redeemed the human race, is that it? What a crock! The human race can't stand me!"

"That's not true, Chris... _I_ like you. You're a good person."

The engineer opened his mouth, but wasn't sure what to say. Tears streamed out of her single eye as she lunged forward to wrap him in a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry this had to happen to you, Chris... But look at the bright side, please." she sobbed. "You helped all those people achieve their dream! Be happy for them! Be thankful for their thanks! Please!"

Chris reached down and patted her on the head. She looked up at him, sniffling, and he wiped away a tear from her freckled cheek. "Alright. Alright. I get it. So... What do I do now?"

"You've let go. Now you can begin again."

"Okay. How?"

"There's a town called Novac just down the road, Chris." she told him, still sniffling.

"Life among humans again? Are you sure they'd accept me?"

"I know they would. Besides, I'm sure you can help the town a great deal with your engineering skills."

Chris sighed. "I guess... I guess it's the only chance I've got. Maybe it'll be different." He chuckled a little. "I was never a Saint before."

The Courier giggled in response.

XXXXXXXXXX

The Courier, Edy, and Skynet made their way upstairs to the launch control platform. It seemed pretty straightforward, but she noticed the console near to the launch control pad.

"What's that, Skynet?" she asked the robobrain.

Skynet looked it over. "Analyzing. Console appears to be linked to navigation systems"

"Really? Does it look okay?"

"Console displays a wealth of information concerning predicted trajectory of rockets. Examining trajectories further, Skynet has discovered that computer is set to take non-optimal route to specified destination."

"Really? Can you fix that?"

"Skynet surmises that with minor alterations, Skynet can plot a course that will take ghouls twelve point five percent closer to intended destination. Should Skynet do so?"

"Of course! Please!"

The robobrain pressed a few of the buttons and turned a few of the dials with his manipulators. He turned to the Courier when he was done. "Skynet has modified the path of the rockets to land closer to their target."

The Courier jumped up and wrapped her arms around the robot's chassis. "Thanks so much, Skynet! Why don't I give you the honors and pressing the launch button?"

"Skynet recognizes this human embrace and button-pressing permission as token of gratitude. Skynet feels odd warmth in its circuits."

The Courier giggled. "That's a warm and fuzzy feeling, Skynet!"

"Warm and fuzz-y? Skynet has noted the terminology."

She giggled again.

XXXXXXXXXX

The Courier stepped through the door of the shop and out onto the balcony of the dinosaur's mouth. She was surprised when it wasn't Manny, but a stranger in a sandy shirt and brown pants.

"Um... You're not Manny." she pointed out.

"Goddamn it! Don't sneak up on me like that." He turned around, holstering his sniper rifle. Actually, his looked kinda different from Manny's sniper rifle.

"Um... I'm looking for Manny."

"He's the day sniper. I'm the night sniper, Boone. I think you'd better leave."

"Um... Okay. Sorry to bother you." She turned to leave, but Boone stopped her.

"Wait. You just got into town. Maybe you shouldn't go. Not just yet."

She turned back around to face him. "Um... Why is that, Mr. Boone, sir?"

"I need someone I can trust. You're a stranger. That's a start."

"Um... You only trust strangers?" She found that weird...

"I said it was a _start_." She flinched back a little. "This town... nobody looks me in the eye anymore."

"Okay... um... D-Do you need something from me?"

"I want you to find something out for me. I don't know if there's anything to find, but I need someone to try. My wife was taken from our home by Legion slavers one night while I was on watch. They knew when to come, what route to take, and they only took Carla. Someone set it up. I don't know who."

"Um... You want me to find your wife, Mr. Boone, sir?"

"My wife's dead. I want the son of a bitch who sold her."

"Um... How do you know your wife is dead?"

"I know, all right? That's all you need to know."

She swallowed hard. "What should I do when I find this person?"

"Bring him out in front of the nest here while I'm on duty. I work nights. I'll give you my NCR beret to put on. It'll be our signal, so I know you're standing with him. And I'll take care of the rest. I need to do this myself."

"Are you sure revenge is the right thing to do, Mr. Boone, sir?"

"Yes."

She swallowed hard "You're really going to kill them when I find them?"

"Yes."

"But Mr. Boone, sir, I-"

"Are you going to help me, or not?"

She sighed. "I'll help. I'll go see what I can find..."

"Good." He handed her his beret. It was slightly faded and had an unusual crest on it. She stuffed it in her waist satchel for easy access. The man was shaved bald under it, too. "I'll make it worth your while. And one more thing. We shouldn't speak again. Not until it's over. No one in town knows that I know what happened to my wife. Best they never know. Or the Legion will be after me next."

The Courier only nodded, stepping back into the dinosaur.

XXXXXXXXXX

It didn't add up. So far, no one was revealing much information on Boone's wife. Ranger Andy had tried to help find her, Cliff Briscoe barely knew her, the McBrides were so out-of-touch they thought she was still alive, and she knew Manny wouldn't do something like this. Daisy Whitman didn't know anything, while Bruce Isaac hadn't been in town long, nor had Doctor Ada Straus and her bodyguards. Jeannie May gave her a funny feeling, but surely the leader of the town wouldn't do it.

Then she noticed No-Bark staring through the window of the motel. Well, it was worth a shot.

"Um, say, No-Bark. What do you know about the abduction of Boone's wife?"

"Seen it all."

"R... Really?"

"Seen shadowy folk come to his room and leave again in the middle of the night. Thought one might have gone in the lobby, too, for a spell. Could be that person went it to get something! Or use the john maybe. Mighty interesting either way, you ask me. I thought it was cannibals, come to eat us all for sure, so I kept out of sight. But now I know better."

"Who was it, then?"

"Molerat men, come up from the Underneath to steal young women with promises of riches and fancy mud mansions with all the latest designer appliances. They covet our lady folk's long hair for wigs, it's said, being either bald or balding themselves."

"Um... right... I have to go now, sir."

"Watch out for wanamingos!"

She knew No-Bark was crazy, but he might've been onto something. She went to search the lobby of the Dino Dee-Lite Motel. So far, nothing suspicious, but the safe caught her attention. She didn't know the first thing about picking locks, but looking around she found a key sitting on the counter. Sure enough, it was the key to the safe. Inside she found some bottlecaps, some Pre-War money, and a note that read "Bill of Sale".

XXXXXXXXXX

_We, the representatives of the Consul Officiorum, have this day bargained and purchased from Jeannie May Crawford of the township of Novac the exclusive rights to ownership and sale of the slave Carla Boone for the sum of one thousand bottle caps, and those of her unborn child for the sum of five hundred bottle caps, the receipt whereof is hereby acknowledged. We warrant the slave and her young to be sound, healthy, and slaves for life. We covenant with the said, Jeannie May Crawford, that we have full power to bargain and sell said slave and her offspring. Payment of an additional five hundred bottle caps will be due pending successful maturation of the fetus, the claim to which shall be guaranteed by possession of this document. M. Scribonius Libo Drusus et al._

_Administrators of M. Licinius Crassus, Consul Officiorum ab Famulatus_

XXXXXXXXXX

Jeannie May sold a pregnant woman into slavery? One who depended on her as the leader of the town? She... She was a monster! The Courier fought back tears as she tucked the note away into her satchel and made her way to Jeannie May's house. She was asleep in her bed, so she nudged her awake.

"Oh, you're back." the woman groggily greeted.

"Um... Sorry to bother you again at this time of night, but I need you to come with me. There's something you should see in front of the dinosaur."

"Okay, if that's what you think."

She led Jeannie May out of her house and down the road, fighting back tears the entire time. She kept telling herself this woman was a monster, she deserved to die. But something inside kept telling her this was wrong...

XXXXXXXXXX

Boone spotted the kid heading out in front of the dinosaur with Jeannie May! Did she really do this? Wait... the kid hadn't put his beret on yet. He'd have to wait, but he'd keep his sight on her at all times, finger on the trigger...

XXXXXXXXXX

"Um... Jeannie May... Are you sure you don't know what happened to Boone's wife?"

"Like I said, she probably left him of her own accord. The poor dear... she just wasn't happy here."

The Courier reached inside her satchel, clutching the beret. No, wait... this wasn't right. She at least needed to confront Jeannie May first. "Then... how come I found this in your safe?"

She handed the woman the bill of sale. Her face paled at the sight of it. "You... You don't understand... I had no choice!"

"We always have a choice, Jeannie May. At least tell me why you did it."

The woman's voice quivered, and not from old age. "The Legion... they came to me, threatened to attack the town. I asked if there was any way I could keep the town safe from them... they asked for Carla Boone as a slave. If not, they would raze Novac to the ground."

"But... they paid you for it!"

"I had no choice..." She whimpered, like she was close to tears. "They paid me for the transaction, whether I wanted it or not. I haven't touched the caps they give me since. I've been meaning to give them to Boone as an apology, but I just couldn't work up the courage to face him..."

"Carla depended on you as a member of this community!" Tears streamed from the Courier's single eye. "How could you do that to her?"

"I had to keep this town safe... I swear, I regret what I did every day, and wish I could take it back. I wish I could confess to Boone, let him do whatever he wants to me for revenge... The Legion was at my doorstep, I had to protect this town! I even offered myself up, but they only wanted Carla! There are some days I think about killing myself, days I feel like a complete monster! I know why you brought me here... Boone intends to kill me. Well... Let him. Let him put an end to my misery. Please."

Wiping the tears from her eye, the Courier pressed a button on her Pip-Boy, stopping the recording she was writing on a blank holotape.

"Thank you, Jeannie May... I'll go tell Boone."

XXXXXXXXXX

Okay... That was weird. She sent Jeannie May back. Did she get the wrong person? When the kid returned, her cheek was tearstained, and she was clutching a piece of paper. She handed it to him. It was a bill of sale, for Carla. Jeannie May sold her! Then... why did the kid not put on his beret? He opened his mouth to ask her why, but she instead pressed a button on her Pip-Boy. An audio log played. He realized it must have been what they were talking about just now.

"Kid... Why the hell did you not just let me kill the bitch?"

"Don't you see? Can't you hear it in her voice, Mr. Boone? She's suffered enough for what she's done."

"No she hasn't. She needs to die."

"Please, Mr. Boone... Let this go."

"To hell with letting go! That bitch sold my wife into slavery!"

To his surprise, she hugged him. Her tears were making his shirt wet. "Please, Mr. Boone..." she sobbed. "Revenge is a one-way road. Nothing good will come of it. Jeannie May is a monster, but in killing her you'll have become a monster even greater than she is. Even if you kill her, you won't find closure. You won't be satisfied. Revenge can't ever satiate anyone's anger. You may think the only thing you can do with your anger is swallow it or throw it in someone's face... But you can let it go. And only then is it truly gone. Only then can you move forward. Just, please... Let go. Begin again. Look in your heart... Think of your love for Carla... and let go. Please."

He wasn't sure what it was. Maybe the softness of her breasts against him. Maybe the wetness of her tears. Maybe the tremble in her voice. But her words struck oddly true. He could feel all his rage melting away... He was letting go. Beginning again. Reluctantly, he brought his arms up and hugged back.

"Fine, kid... Fine. You've made your point. Heh. First time anyone cried over one of my issues. But I can't stay in this town. Not anymore. Not after all that's happened."

She looked up, a small smile on her face even as she sniffled. "You could come with me, Mr. Boone."

He paused for a long time. "What?"

"You could come travel with me. You can protect me, and I can help keep you on the straight and narrow."

He didn't know about the latter, but the kid was definitely too naive to last very long out in the harsh wasteland. Hm... If she didn't have him by her side, she'd fall prey to someone ruthless, and fast.

"Okay. But listen, kid. I'm not your friend. This relationship is strictly professional. You treat me like a proper bodyguard, and I treat you like some kid who doesn't know how to handle herself in the wastes. That's how it goes. We don't get friendly. We don't get cozy. We don't get close. Deal?"

She sniffled. "Deal."

"Good. Now I need to go pack and try and get some sleep. I assume you're leaving in the morning?" She nodded. "Then I'll wait for you in the motel parking lot. Get some sleep."

"Sure, Mr. Boone."

"Just Boone. Okay?"

She smiled up at him. "Okay. I'm the Courier."

She turned to leave. First, she had to go see Manny.

XXXXXXXXXX

When the Courier returned to Manny's room to talk to him, she was surprised to find Chris Haversam there.

"Chris! You made it!" She ran up and hugged him, missing the jealous look Manny was giving her.

"Welcome to Novac. It's not very exciting here, but the people are friendly enough. My engineering skills have been coming in handy, too. I've got plenty to do. Thanks for telling me about this place."

"So you're staying with Manny now?" He nodded. "But I only see one bed..." Both of them looked uncomfortable. "Oh! Manny, I cleared out the ghouls." Both gave a sigh of relief.

"Really? Unbelievable, man! I knew that wasn't gonna be easy. But I had a good feeling about you. You look like you been through a lot."

"So... um... About the man I'm looking for..." She shifted uncomfortably. She felt bad asking...

"Okay. I'll tell you everything I know, like I promised. The guy you're looking for, Benny, he's traveling with some members from my old gang. They were going to Boulder City."

Her face brightened. Finally, a lead! She might be closer to finding out who she is than she thought. "Any idea why they went that way?"

"No clue. I know Benny hadn't paid up yet. Maybe that was where they were supposed to get square."

"Where is Boulder City?"

"It's straight up Route 93 from here. Just keep following the road north."

"Thank you so much, Manny, sir!" She lunged forward to hug him. He smiled and patted her back.

"Hope it helps. I owed you. If you need proof I'm telling the truth, check my computer terminal back there. There's a message you can download to your Pip-Boy."

"Really? Thank you!" She hugged him tighter before running to download the message to her Pip-Boy. She gave it a quick read.

XXXXXXXXXX

_Manny,_

_You made the right choice, putting us up and keeping it quiet. This weasel Benny's been twitchy since we stole that package from his boss. Making me nervous as hell. But when I found out we'd be passing through on our way to Boulder City, I was sure we could count on you. Let the other Khans say what they want. I know where your loyalty is._

_One day you'll remember where you belong, and your brothers and sisters will welcome you back like you never left. You know where to find us._

_McMurphy_

XXXXXXXXXX

She got a good night's sleep. When she awoke the next morning, Craig Boone was waiting for her in the parking lot. He was a bit surprised to see a rusty robobrain and floating robot with her, but was thankful he could unload some of his luggage on Betsy. She set some ground rules with him, or vice versa, and made her way north. Next stop, Boulder City.

XXXXXXXXXX

Author's Notes:

1. Skynet was a supercomputer AI and a joinable follower in Fallout 2. The player had to get a robobrain in working order for Skynet to download itself into. If the player got the best brain possible for the robobrain (a cybernetic one), Skynet could function as a sniper and a scientist. The Super Mutant Marcus was also a follower in Fallout 2, as was Cass's father, Cassidy. We have those two, so... why wouldn't Skynet still be around?

2. Robobrains, as well as all robots in this fanfic, will be using their voices from Fallout 3. I understand that Obsidian couldn't use Bethesda's voice actors, but I prefer the robot voices from Fallout 3, with the smooth female voice of the Robobrain, the British butler Mr. Handy, and the drill sergeant Mr. Gutsy. The only exceptions to this rule are the robots who have their own unique voice.

3. In Fallout 2, New Reno is still producing porn movies. In fact, the player character can become a porn star if his or her Charisma is high enough. NPCs on the street will actually recognize the player, mentioning oddly titled porn movies he or she was in.

4. The electric hot plate is from Dead Money. I have a "Home Cooking" mod that adds electric hot plates to various areas of the Mojave, one such being the Dino Dee-Lite Motel room.

5. Not many know this, but there's a second container of the igniting agent next to a dead pack brahmin in Clark Field. Can you say... souvenir? X3


	5. Chapter 4: Crossroads

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Fallout. Fallout belongs to Bethesda, who purchased the rights from Black Isle.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Fallout:** New Vegas

Unknown Origins

By _Cyberweasel89_

**Chapter 4:** Crossroads

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The Courier and her companions make their way north along the road. They passed by a gas station that had some Cram and Blamco mac and cheese in it, as well as plenty of gum drops. The only trouble they ran into was a gang of three Vipers, but Edy, Skynet, and Boone made quick work of them. She was glad she didn't have to do as much killing with her growing family with her.

The Courier noticed a campfire over by a billboard. As she neared, she heard guitar music. Approaching, she found it to be a man in a duster, idly playing a guitar.

"That's a nice guitar you have, sir. And what beautiful sound."

The man looked up, slight surprise on his face, like he didn't notice her and her group approach. "Howdy, little lady. You are?"

"Um... I'm the Courier, that's Boone, Edy, Skynet, and Betsy." She gestured to each of them in turn.

"Occupational name, huh? Looks like we have that in common. Just call me the Lonesome Drifter."

"Nice to meet you, Lonesome Drifter, sir."

"Same to you, Courier."

"So... what's your story, sir?"

"My story's a long one, friend, and I can't say that it's all that interesting."

She gave a small smile. "Nevertheless, I'm interested." She heard Boone give a sigh, going to lean against the billboard as he sipped from a bottle of scotch. Edy followed him over to hover next to him, the sniper casting the robot a disturbed glance.

"Well, I was born in a little town out Montana way. Me and Ma didn't have much, ever since my pa up and left."

She gasped. "Your father abandoned you?" She heard Boone give a groan, though she couldn't imagine why.

"That he did. Never did know why. Ma always said he was a real Mysterious feller, even when he was with her. Like he was a Stranger sometimes."

"Sounds like you miss him. Is that why you're out here wandering?"

"Maybe. Maybe I just never felt like I belonged back home."

"I'm sorry. It must have been hard growing up without a father." Another groan from Boone. Was he all right?

"It sure wasn't easy. Ma worked her fingers to the bone to make sure we had enough to survive, and I worked the coal mines from when I was fifteen. After Ma died, I guess I wanted to find my Pa and get some answers from him. Been out here looking ever since, but he ain't an easy man to find."

"What'll you do when you find him?"

"Can't say as I really know. Maybe I'll just ask him why. Maybe I'll punch him right in the mouth. Hell, the more I talk about it, the more the whole damn thing sounds like a dumb idea."

"Sounds like you should move on. Settle down, maybe."

"Maybe I should. Don't suppose you know any place a feller with a guitar might find a job, huh?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't, sir. I'll let you know if I do, though."

"Ah well, it was worth a shot. But what about you? What's your story, little lady?"

"I'm afraid that's complicated, sir." Boone perked, looking up from his scotch bottle with interest.

"How so?"

"I have amnesia."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I don't remember anything about my life, not even my own name. All I know is that I'm a Courier and I was delivering a package when I was shot in the head. I'm trying to track down the man who shot me, hoping he might know who I am."

"That's too bad, little lady. Who might you be looking for?"

"All I know is that he's a man wearing a checkered suit."

"Can't say I've heard of him. Sorry I couldn't be of help."

"It's okay. Um... is it okay if we camp out on the other side of this billboard?"

"Of course. I'll even build you a campfire."

"Really? Thanks so much, sir!"

**XXXXXXXXXX**

That night, the Courier and her companions camped out under the stars. Betsy nibbled on some nearby dried grass, while Boone and the Courier prepared the tent.

"So..." Boone began. It was the first words he'd said to her since leaving Novac. "The reason you only told me to call you the Courier wasn't because you didn't want to get too friendly... but because you don't remember your own name?"

"Yeah. I don't remember anything about my life or any current events in the world. I still remember facts about the world, though, like types of robots and bottlecaps for currency."

"What about those robots? And the pack brahmin?"

"I got Betsy in Goodsprings for helping out a Crimson Caravan merchant. Edy I fixed up in Primm, while Skynet I met on the way to Novac."

"Why do you keep those robots around?" the sniper asked.

The Courier put her hands on her hips. "They have names, you know. They're Skynet and Edy."

"Okay. So what use do they have?"

"Well... Aside from being great companions, robots don't sleep, right? So they can take night watch. Besides, Skynet is great with computers and science. He's even a pretty good sniper. Um... Not as good as you, though."

"Of course it's not as good as me. There's no way a machine's logic could best a human's gut instincts. Give me a rifle and a clear line of sight and I'll start picking them off before they've even seen me. I've been trained as a spotter, too. For moments when the enemy is too close to shoot, I was taught some basic hand-to-hand combat and knife fighting with a trench knife. But the chances are better if you keep the enemy out of my face."

She was afraid they'd get into an argument at this rate. She decided to change the subject. Boone had been so quiet during their day-long journey through the desert, maybe she should get to know him a bit better.

"Um... Tell me about yourself, Boone."

"Okay. It's not really my thing, but if that's what you want."

"Um... How do you feel about Manny Vargas?"

"He was a good spotter."

"Uh... D-Didn't you used to be friends?"

"Yeah. We were."

"Uh... N-Not anymore?"

"No."

She could tell he didn't want to go into it. Quick Courier, she told herself. Talk about something else!

"Um... Tell me about your wife, Boone."

"Carla's dead. That's all you need to know."

"Um... Boone... What is it you aren't telling me about what happened to your wife?"

"You got no right asking me that. Drop it."

She swallowed hard. He didn't seem angry. But like always, he seemed dead serious. "Y-You're right. I was out of line, I guess. I'm sorry..."

The sniper sighed. "It's just not something I'm ready to discuss. With you or anybody. The Legion's the only thing I want on my mind right now."

"Um... Okay. Uh... Hey, do you ever take that beret off?" She smiled teasingly at him.

"No."

Her smile fell. "Oh... Um... What outfit did you serve in the military with, Boone?"

"First NCR Recon. It's a sniper battalion."

Ah, he at least seemed willing to talk about this. "How did you end up joining it, Boone?"

"They pick you out if you do well at the firing range. Pays a little better, so I said okay."

"Wow. And is that a First Recon beret?"

"Yeah. You can tell by the patch. Bear skull with crossed rifles behind it. Slogan underneath."

"Um... What's the slogan? I haven't gotten a good look at it."

"The last thing you never see." She felt a shiver go up her spine. "Pretty accurate. And so were we."

The Courier giggled. "Was that a joke?"

"No."

Her smile fell. "Oh. Um... Where does First Recon usually operate?"

"It sees a lot of action. They moved us around a lot. I was stationed at Camp Golf for a while. Last I heard, they were at Camp McCarran."

"Oh, what was Camp Golf like?"

"It was on the front line for a while. Only resort in New Vegas no one wanted to get sent to. Doesn't have that kind of importance anymore, though. They pulled most of the troops out of there after we took Hoover Dam."

"Oh... And Camp McCarran?"

"Was an airport before the war. Command liked it because it was already fortified, and it let them keep an eye on the Strip. They've got an old monorail that still runs between them. Used mostly for supplies and deployment. But if you get leave, you're allowed to go gamble. Was General Oliver's post, but I heard he's been up at the Dam a lot lately. Guessing Colonel Hsu is running it."

"Um... General Oliver? I've never heard of him, so... what's your opinion on him?"

"Didn't know him. He's a signature on my discharge papers. Wasn't real popular, though. Even overheard my C.O. complain about him once. General Wait-and-see, he called him."

Hm. She wasn't sure what that was supposed to say about the man. "And do you know Colonel Hsu at all?"

"Yeah. He introduced himself to me once. I shook his hand. Doubt he'd remember me now, though. When he looked at you, you could see he understood. After some of the things we'd seen, that meant something. What I heard, he'd be a general right now if Oliver didn't know the president."

"That's too bad. Um... Were you at Bitter Springs with First Recon?"

"I was in a lot of places with First Recon. I don't really remember."

"But you must have been at Bitter Springs, Boone. What happened there?"

"That part of my life is over now. And so is this discussion."

She swallowed hard. "Um... Okay... Uh, I'll be in the tent. Y-You can sleep in there with me, but..." she blushed. "D-Don't turn and look at me! Wh-Whatever you do!"

"And why is that?"

"I..." she gazed down at the ground, her blush growing. "I sleep... n-naked..." she mumbled.

"What was that?"

"I sleep naked, okay!" she shouted. She quickly blushed and made herself small when she heard a loud laugh come from the other side of the billboard.

The sniper seemed taken aback at first. "Well... I guess you need to beat the heat somehow. Don't worry. I have no interest in a kid like you."

The Courier gave a sigh of relief, but... she also felt a little disappointed. She couldn't help but wonder why as she crawled into the tent, neatly folding her clothes next to her bedroll as she settled in for the night.

Outside, Boone, reached into his backpack and pulled out an odd aerosol can with an inhaler attached to it. Time for some recreational activity. Really, it was the only way he could sleep what with the insomnia that plagued him. He took a puff and watched as the world around him slowed down. It gave him some time to think, but his thoughts were only on the Legion and how best to kill them.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The group soon neared an overpass modified for civilization. The first thing the Courier did was head for the cafe. She was hungry. Boone and Skynet went over to see the Gun Runner under the overpass about some ammunition. Edy followed. It seemed she had taken a liking to Boone.

A young girl, just a few years older than the Courier herself, was manning the bar. "Welcome to the 188 Slop and Shop. Like our slogan says, it's better than nothing. How can I help you?

"Cripsy squirrel bits please!"

"You got it." The girl set to work making the meal. "So, what brings you to the 188?"

"Just tracking someone. I'm the Courier. You are?"

"Name's Michelle. My dad and I run this store. His name's Samuel. I take the day shift and he takes nights. We came here about a month ago, when Primm went to hell on account of the prison break north of there. Found a bin to call home and set up shop."

"Oh? Why'd you settle here, Michelle?"

"There's more to the 188 than meets the eye. Troops move back and forth on 93 all the time, and 95 is how NCR folks come and go from Vegas. No shortage of customers... so long as Legion raids south of here don't get worse, anyways."

"Um... Legion raids?"

Michelle handed her her skewer of squirrel bits. She handed the girl some caps. "I don't know much. I hear some folks got killed down by Nelson... Or was it Novac? I don't know. If they come up this way, me and dad'll go someplace else."

The Courier swallowed before speaking. "Why do they call this the 188, Michelle?"

"You do know these old roads were numbered, right? We're standing where the 95 and 93 meet. And 95 plus 93 equals... 188."

She blushed, thoroughly embarrassed that she hadn't realized that. "Right... I sh-should've realized that."

"Hey, it's okay. We can't realize everything on our own, now can we?"

**XXXXXXXXXX**

She was checking out the underside of the overpass when she spotted a little boy surrounded by some junk. She walked over to see him. "Hello, ma'am. I hope you're doing fine today."

"Um... I'm the Courier. Where are your parents?"

"They call me the Forecaster. And I don't have a mama or papa anymore. I see them sometimes when I take off my medicine, but... they can't stay. I'm pretty used to being on my own."

"Oh. So... what do you do around here? Sell things?"

"Oh, I don't sell _things_, ma'am. I sell thoughts."

"You don't sell those things behind you?"

"Those aren't things. Those're other people's thoughts. People had to think to make them, and the thoughts got stuck inside. I need other people's thoughts to fill my head when I'm not thinking myself. Otherwise it's... kind of empty."

"Um... So you sell thoughts?"

"I can take off my medicine and do some thinking. People say it's real interesting. I don't know, because I never hear it. Some people say that it's a gift. Other people say it's the kind of thinking anyone could do if they watched more than they talked. I don't know which is true. I see a lot. I think a lot. There's a lot to hear through the 188, too. That maybe accounts for the thinking."

"Um... What's your 'medicine' and how do you take it off?"

"This thing on my head is headache medicine. It works real good, except... I can't think when it's on. _Really_ think, I mean."

"Um... How much to hear your thoughts, Mr. Forecaster?"

"One hundred caps each."

Ooo. That was a little steep, but she had plenty from Lieutenant Hayes. She payed the boy.

"Great! What do you want me to think about? I can think about You, Here... or Everywhere. What do you want?"

"Um... My memories are gone, Forecaster, sir. Can you do your thinking about me, please?"

"Okay. Let me take off my medicine..." He did so. "Your face does the thinking. Two to the skull, yet one gets up. Odds are against you... but they're just numbers after the two-to-one. You're playing the hand you've been dealt, but you don't let it rest. You look at the other players, and find you have the advantage. The other players are playing for themselves, playing alone. You have what they don't have. Something you have because you're not alone. You choose the outcome of this game. You take a gamble, but only after each friend has kissed the die in your hand. A gamble that may pay off? Forecast... Unknown origins..." He put his medicine back on. "A lot of thinking. Most of it in your face. It's almost shouting at me. Sorry if I said anything weird."

"Wow... Um... C-Can you do your thinking about here? Th-The 188 Trading Post?" She handed him another one hundred caps.

"I need to take off my medicine..." He did so. "Local, local, the here and now... little of interest... things to buy, false hopes, and regrets watered down, washed down in dirty glasses. With regret comes a girl... smiling sad, red robe, name Veronica, half here. Wraps her and her heart up like a pack. In the pack, a key, some say. Forecast... cloudy with a chance of friendship." He put his medicine back on. "Ouch. Thinking small only hurts a little, but it's a sharp pain."

"I'm sorry. But I'd like to hear one more of your thoughts... This time about e-everwhere." She handed him another hundred caps.

"Let me take off my medicine..." He did so. "Bull and bear over the dam, at each other's throats. Two more join the fight. A tyrannizing lion. A traitorous weasel. Which will win? Ball spinning on the wheel. More than two at the table, placing bets. All lose in different ways. But what's this? A light from the wasteland? A little white rabbit joins the cockfight. Not a spectator, not a fighter. Which side will win? The rabbit decides. But the rabbit isn't alone. A fearful cow who's pretty in ribbons. A faithful goldfish with the key to vast knowledge. A calculating boar eager for data. A stoic rooster with a guilty conscience. A crafty raccoon longing for change. A perky squirrel who's not of this world. A heartbroken camel drowning her sorrows in whiskey. A handy burro haunted by his age. A naughty cat who abandoned her people. A healing owl with the best of intentions. A quirky wolf with a feeble mind. A nurturing bat with muddled memories. A sneaky spider on a one-way mission. A flightless dove with deep wanderlust. A lonely wolf who only needs someone to deal her deck. A wizened fox with the Old World on his back and in his mind. A mysterious black sheep who's a stranger to all, even the son he abandoned. Who are they to this rabbit? Allies? Friends? Family? Lovers? Only the rabbit can determine. But... is the rabbit... really a dragon? Forecast... Great change brought on by a true heart." He put his medicine back on. "Bleh. Thinking about Everywhere always makes me feel a little sick."

"How do you know these things?"

"Oh, I don't know anything, ma'am. I just think it. And then I don't."

"Um... A-Anymore thoughts I can pay you for, Forecaster, sir?"

"Sorry, ma'am. All that thinking has made my head hurt. I don't think I'll be doing any thinking for a long time."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

She met back up with Boone that night, getting ready for bed on the mattresses provided in the inn trailer. "How'd your ammo hunt go, Boone?" she asked.

"That Gun Runner asshole wouldn't sell me a thing. Had to buy from an ex-NCR arms merchant."

"Skynet could not find any microfusion cells for Skynet's gauss rifle. Skynet will have to shoot sparingly."

"I'm sorry, Skynet. Maybe we could-"

"I have some microfusion cells to spare."

The Courier turned to see a girl in a red robe and hood step into the trailer. She had a power fist on her right hand.

"No offense, but you look like you've traveled a long way down some bad roads. Where'd you come from?"

"Um... Uh... W-Well..." She sighed. "I'm not entirely sure."

"Yeah. Guess the roads must have been long if you forgot where you started from. Well, welcome then. I'm Veronica. I live in a hole in the ground."

"I'm the Courier. This is Boone, Skynet, and Edy. Our pack brahmin Betsy is grazing nearby. Um... You live in a hole in the ground, Veronica?"

"Well, a bunker, if you want to get technical. I think it sounds more interesting my way. But I'm not there much anymore. I'm usually out here picking up food and supplies for my family. Whatever they need."

"So you just leave your family in the bunker, Veronica?"

"Yeah. I'm not worried. They can handle themselves. But somebody has to get the groceries, know what I mean? And, actually these days... I think they'd rather have me out here anyway. But... that's a whole other story. Sooo, listen... Can I ask you something on the level?"

"O-Of course. G-Go ahead, Veronica."

"I had a run-in with this group calling themselves the Brotherhood of Steel. Pretty strange bunch. Do you... know anything about them?"

"Um... N-Not really. I'm sorry."

"That's okay, I wouldn't expect anybody to. I think they tend to keep to themselves. Hey, so... Where are you headed, anyway?"

She sighed. "I'm tracking someone. Currently, we're on our way to Boulder City. We'll figure out where to go from there."

"This is quite a journey you're going on, then. Must be an interesting relationship to have brought you all this way. I'll be honest. You're the first person I've run across out here that looks like she can really handle herself."

"Really? But... I don't have a gun."

"No, but I see you're wearing boxing tape. You must be a skilled unarmed fighter to not carry a gun as back-up. That's how I know."

"Oh... Th-Thank you?"

"Listen, there are places I've never been to that'd be too dangerous for just me. What do you think? Maybe we could travel together, help each other out."

"R-Really?" She paused. She had to think this through first... "But... D-Don't you have a family to feed?"

"Like I said, they can handle themselves. And I'm not the only one getting supplies for them. It's a big family."

"Okay, but... where are you hoping to go?"

"Oh, nowhere in particular, really. Just hoping to see more of the world. Looking for a fresh perspective. I want to see how different groups have adapted to survive in the Mojave. See if there's something I can learn from."

"You don't look like much. What do you bring to the table?"

It was the first thing Boone had said since Veronica showed up. The Courier turned to glare at him. "Boone! That's rude!"

"Hm. Good. That's the look I was going for." The Courier turned back to Veronica when she responded.

"Oh."

"Trust me on this one, though. You'll be glad you brought me along. If I turn out to be a burden, we can part ways at any time. No hard feelings."

"Sure! I'd love to have a new member to the group!"

Boone groaned. Edy beeped happily. Skynet didn't show any reaction.

"Now you're talking. One thing you should know first, though. I asked you about the Brotherhood because... I'm one of them."

Boone perked at this revelation. The Courier gasped. "You lied?"

"I know, I know. But... I had to know how you'd react when I told you. We've made a _lot_ of enemies. You still okay bringing me along?"

The Courier smiled. "Absolutely. Welcome aboard, Veronica."

"At least now we know she's had some training." Boone remarked.

"I'm great at punching people. I'm not gonna lie. It's a gift. Well, thanks for taking a chance on a naive young girl from California with stars in her eyes and a pneumatic gauntlet on her hand. Let's hit the road, huh? Uh, after we sleep, of course."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"So, Veronica... Tell me about the Brotherhood of Steel, please."

The group was walking east to Boulder City. The Courier decided to make some conversation with the Brotherhood scribe. Boone was always so quiet, it was nice to have some chatting company.

"It pays like ass, but it's hard to get other work with my skill set. What do you want to know?"

"What's their purpose?"

"Heh! Good question. These days it's hard to say. Once upon a time it was about technology. Controlling it so it couldn't destroy us again. Energy weapons and power armor are usually tops on our list, although _I_ appreciate anything that's vintage. But... that all seems... so limited now. We haven't grown or adapted. And now we're stuck in a hole, not carrying out our mission."

"So... They don't protect people from raiders and things? Just from technology?"

"Got that right. We only protect people from themselves. And only in the sense that we don't let them have the really good Pre-War toys. And sometimes it's more like we protect ourselves from them and hope to outlive them and become humanity's sole heirs. We've had people go rogue, though, and start helping people. One chapter had a small civil war over it. We take our isolationism seriously."

"Why are they so interested in Nevada?"

"It was the Dam, really. We'd heard rumors it was working. Figured we could claim it, put it to use. And... It may have been partly that our Elder at the time had worn out his welcome. Didn't end up mattering. We got sidetracked at HELIOS One, and the NCR took the Dam in the meantime. We're still after it, though... In theory."

"What do you do for them?"

"I'm a procurement specialist. Like I said, it's basically grocery shopping. Except sometimes the groceries are scavenged parts and arcane technology. The elder who brought us to the Mojave, Father Elijah, usually had me looking for these old memory units. But he'd never tell me what they were for. Nowadays I'm usually sent to do business with traders at places like the 188. But sometimes I think it's just to keep me out of everyone's hair."

"So... How did you get to be a member, Veronica?"

"More sexual favors than I can even count. I am _still_ tired from it." The Courier gasped, making the scribe smile. "No, actually, you're born into it. My parents, their parents, so on. When you're young you can choose to leave. But it's home, so most people don't. We don't take on new members, really. You can do the math on our long-term prospects based on that point. I keep hoping we'll change that."

"Do you have any blood family in the Brotherhood, though?"

"Just my parents, but they haven't been around for a long time. Dad was a Paladin. Mom was a Scribe. They died in the same battle trying to hold off the NCR from... something. I don't remember what it was. Guess it seemed important at the time."

"I'm sorry... That's so sad..."

"It's okay."

"But... Do you like being a member?"

"I know sometimes I sound like I don't. I know. But... there's still something that rings true to me about our code. There's an honor to it. We're protecting people. Even if it's from themselves, it's a good cause. We just lose sight of the big picture sometimes. Treat all our practices with the same sacredness.

"Are you well-respected among other members of the Brotherhood?"

"If you take trying to keep me as far away from Hidden Valley as possible because I ask too many difficult questions as a sign of respect... _Oh_ yeah."

"Wow."

"That's not to say I don't get along with them. I just think they don't know what to do with me sometimes."

"I'm sorry. How do you feel about the other members, anyway?"

"I called them family before. That's not far off. Both the good and the bad. It's like a big unending family reunion in that bunker. There's people you love, people you'll never speak to again, and it's _always_ awkward when you run into someone you used to date.

"Um... You mentioned a Father Elijah. Who is that?"

"He was our Elder when we came East. A wizard with technology, really. His mind just worked that way, naturally. Learned a lot from him. But he started having disagreements with the other Elders. The Brotherhood's interest is in old technology. He wanted to explore developing new tech. And there were other ways he wanted to push. Other weapons. Ones with ethics questions attached. Rather than deal with him, they sent him East."

"Okay... But who was he to you?"

"I _would_ say he was my tutor, but that doesn't cover it. After my parents passed, he looked after me. The whole Brotherhood brought me up, really, but he made sure of it. I never had a grandfather. Not that I knew, anyway. But Elijah was in some ways what I imagined a grandfather to be."

"Wow. You followed him from California?"

"It was by his request, actually. He cleared it with the other Elders. Somehow. They sent him to look into the Dam. There was a time when I'd have begged to follow. Watch him at work."

"Was? What changed?"

"He did. For years, he fought with the Council. Taught me to question our direction. Meanwhile he'd become more out-of-touch than all of them. On our way East, he _demanded_ we stop at HELIOS One to examine it. While we were there, we received word that the NCR had taken the Dam. He was _furious_. Called it children playing with a bomb. But he was mad because we'd lost its power. What we'd use it for... he didn't even care."

"How is that different from how any other Elder would have acted?"

"They're cautious. When they discover something, they respect it, learn its limits, consider how to preserve it. Used to drive Father Elijah crazy. He liked to learn limits, too, but only so he could push them. That's not to excuse the other Elders, though. They _all_ covet technology for its own sake. Some are just more fanatical than others."

"D-Did you ever try to talk some sense into him?"

"Yeah, I did. I couldn't help him. He just didn't listen. And the idea that people talked back to him..." She sighed. "If he could've made the Brotherhood act like machines, ordering them around with a push of a button, he would have."

"Were you close?"

"Yeah. I miss him."

"Where is he now?"

"I don't know. Last time anyone saw him was in the battle at HELIOS One. I wasn't there. He gave the orders to hold the plant until it could be reactivated. But he ran out of time. The NCR overran it. Everyone thought he was dead. But, I got a note from him at a comm station. That's... how he liked to talk. Even to me. He wasn't good at face-to-face."

"What did the note say?"

"It was... strange. Even for Father Elijah. He's always been unstable, but this was... something else. I don't want to say delusional, but... I don't know what else to call it. The only thing familiar about it was the signature. He said that the Brotherhood was doomed, but he'd return, that he'd save us. But the _way_ he said it... I don't know... Said he'd return with one of the greatest treasures of the Old World, make the Mojave like it was meant to be... Wipe the slate clean."

The Courier felt a shiver run up her spine. "You said he was your tutor... What did you learn from him?"

"Elijah could look at an old device and immediately understand what made it work. _And_, he could see its potential. Where it fit with other technology. It's not something you can teach, but he tried with me. Some of it stuck. But... That's what he taught me. You asked what I learned from him."

"How is that different? What did you learn from him?"

"I learned what I don't want to become. In the end, there was just him and his vision. Nothing... and no one else."

"I'm sorry, Veronica..."

"It's okay."

She had to think of something else to talk about to get Veronica out of this mood. "Um... H-How can we best use your skills, Veronica? Boone made a good point, despite how rude it was. Do you bring anything to the table?"

"I like punching things. But sometimes shooting things just has to do. I have a laser RCW for that. I usually keep it in my pack since I don't use it much. I prefer punching things."

"Okay. Um... Anything else? You're a scribe, aren't you?"

"Yeah. I've been taking things apart and putting them back together since before I said my first word. My specialty is ammunition."

Boone perked at that.

"Um... Ammunition?" the Courier wondered.

"Yeah. Give me some cases or hulls and other assorted ammo building blocks and I can craft you some brand new ammo. Best part is, most shops give away that stuff for free. Hell, on a good day, I can even craft you ammo from tin cans and scrap metal. Oh, and tell your robot to save any microfusion cells he drains. I can recycle those into fresh new cells."

"Let me get this straight..." Boone spoke up. "You can make ammo? Even .308 rounds?"

"You bet."

"Huh. Maybe you made the right choice bringing her along, kid." The Courier blushed.

"That's not all. Give me any lock, any lock at all, and I can pick it."

The Courier perked this time. "You can pick locks?"

"Yep. I'm a master lockpicker. I've got a complete set of locksmithing tools and even a Wattz Electronics Electronic Lock Pick Mark Two. Give me any lock, be it pin, tumbler, or even a card reader, and I can pick it."

"Oh, wow! That's amazing, Veronica!"

"Please, please. You give me too little credit."

The Courier giggled. "For those kind of skills, do you have anything I can help you with?"

"I want... a _dress_."

"Um... A... A dress?"

"Yeah! A good one. Something elegant and classy, you know. But still stylish. Something that's eye-catching and sexy, but also says... Don't fuck with me. I keep hoping I'll come across some Old World designer gown when I'm scavenging, but it never happens. Maybe I should move back to California."

"That's your goal? You want a nice dress?"

"Hey, you try getting a date wearing Scribe robes. Might as well be wearing sweatpants. I just like 'em, you know? They make you feel like a woman. Those ladies before the War, _they_ knew what they were _doing_."

She was about to wonder what was wrong with this girl... but then realized she was, technically, wearing a dress. Not a fancy one, but it was a dress. Anything without a skirt and she got headaches. She promptly dropped the subject.

"Um... Ever been in love?"

"Ever been nosy?"

The Courier gazed down at the ground sadly, but Veronica just sighed.

"I was, once. We were pretty young, but I like to think it was love.

"What happened?"

"She left the Brotherhood. Wanted to put some distance between herself and her parents. Since our membership isn't open to outsiders, some members think that obligates all of us to procreate. You can guess which camp her parents belonged to."

She? So... "You didn't go with her?"

"No. Couldn't bring myself to leave everyone else behind. Couldn't convince her to stay, either. I'd hoped love would be enough to influence her decision, but it wasn't. We were both too stubborn. I don't know where she is now, but I'm sure she's moved on. I still think about her, though. Once in a while."

"I'm sorry, Veronica. But, um... So... You're a, uh..."

"Yeah I'm a, uh. Got a problem with that?"

"No, no. Not at all."

"Good. Keep it that way."

The Courier blushed furiously and lowered her head in shame. Boone just chuckled, sipping from his bottle of scotch.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

She noticed a town up ahead. A town in ruin and littered with rubble, but a town all the same. As her group entered through the road leading into town, the Courier spotted a slab of stone by the road, too clean to be natural. She ran up and sure enough, it was a monument of some sort. She read it aloud.

"On this spot in the year 2277, rangers and soldiers of the New California Republic turned back the forces of Caesar's Legion during the Battle of Hoover Dam. Over one hundred men and women gave their lives on Nevada soil to defend local civilians and the principles of the Republic. May this humble stone be an enduring memorial to their valor and sacrifice."

"You here to pay your respects, too?"

She turned to see a young man in NCR trooper armor walk up, gazing up at the stone.

"Um... Yeah. Is this a memorial...?" she trailed off in place of his name.

"Kowalski. Private Kowalski. You?"

"I'm the Courier, sir."

"This memorial commemorates the Battle of Hoover Dam. The rangers lured the best of Caesar's Legion into Boulder City, then blew the whole town up. The NCR still lost a bunch of troops in the fighting, though. My older brother sacrificed himself, so they could evacuate some of the wounded."

"I'm sorry... Your brother died a hero."

The private gazed down at the ground. "Yeah... I know... I still miss him, though."

She needed to think of something to say to lift his spirits. "Are you normally stationed here?"

"No. Camp McCarran. But I'm on leave at the moment. Heading back to California to see my folks. I'm supposed to join up with a caravan that's heading that way up at the 188, but they're not due to arrive for a while yet. Figured I'd pay my respects here for now. What brings you to Boulder City, though?"

"Well... We're tracking someone. He was headed for Boulder City, and may still be here."

"Tracking someone? Are you a bounty hunter?"

She shook her head, a small smile gracing her features. "No. Just looking for answers."

"Hm. Well, good luck. If you're thirsty or hungry, you might want to try the Big Horn Saloon over there. Ike does a pretty good job running the place. If you plan to stay the night, Mike runs the inn just on the other side of town."

"Thanks, Mr. Kowalski. We'll do that."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"A customer! Not many people come into Boulder City these days. Are you with the group that just came in?"

The Courier, Veronica, and Boone stepped up to take a seat at the bar. Skynet waited outside with Betsy, but Edy followed them in to hover next to Boone. Definitely seemed like the robot had taken a liking to the sniper, much to his chagrin. "No, we just got here ourselves. Why would you think we were with another group?" Veronica asked.

"I just kinda figured you would be with them since I rarely get two different groups of customers in the same day. Sure you're not with them? Girl with blonde hair, guy with his face all wrapped in bandages, dog with them?" They shook their heads. "Oh. Well, what can I get you?"

"Scotch." Boone ordered.

"Vodka over here." was Veronica's choice.

"Nuka-Cola, please, sir." Then she glanced at the bottle on the shelf. "Um... Make that a Quartz, please, sir."

"Comin' right up. Anything to eat?"

"Brahmin steak."

"Desert salad."

"Um... I'm not that hungry. Can I just get a box of Cheezy Poofs, please?"

"Comin' right up." Ike handed them their drinks, then left to prepare their food in the back.

Veronica turned to Boone. "So, sniperguy... You always wear that beret?"

"Yes."

"Do you ever take it off?"

"No."

"And do you always wear the sunglasses, too?"

"Yes."

"Even at night?"

"Especially at night."

"Why?"

"That's none of your business."

"Wow. Not very talkative, are you? Hey, Courier, where'd you find this guy?" she waited. "Courier?"

The two turned to see the girl's nose buried in a paperback book of some kind.

"What's that you're reading?" Veronica asked.

The Courier blushed, holding the book away from the two. "Um... N-Nothing!"

"Yoink." Veronica reached behind the Courier and yanked it from her hands.

"H-Hey!"

"Tales of Chivalrie? Really?"

Boone smirked. "Isn't that the medieval comic series with the knights and dragons?"

"You read comics? Seriously?"

The Courier stood up on her stool, trying to reach for the comic, but Veronica held it out of her reach.

"Confess and I'll give it back."

Pausing, the Courier turned away and covered her face in her hands. She gave a mumbled reply.

"What was that?" asked Boone.

The Courier turned back around to face them, blushing furiously. "Yes! I read comics! But only Tales of Chivalrie!"

Satisfied with the result, Veronica handed the comic back to her, which the Courier promptly hugged against her bulging chest.

"Hey, it's okay, Courier. I used to read La Fantoma... Granted, I was nine years old at the time." Veronica soothed... though not very seriously.

"Yeah. Aren't you a little old to be reading comics?" Boone added.

"I just..." The Courier sighed. "I like medieval times. I love stories of brave, heroic knights who slay dragons to save princesses. It was such a romantic time..."

Veronica snorted. "Sounds like you should've been born into the Brotherhood instead of me."

The Courier gazed down at the floor, her eyes watering.

"Hey, it's okay! Plenty of guys back at Hidden Valley still read Grognak. With the bunker in lockdown, there isn't much to do."

"I once found an issue of Captain Cosmos under my bunk mate's bed back when I was in First Recon." Boone added, oddly supportive for once.

The Courier looked up at the two, a small smile on her face. "You won't make fun of me for it?"

"Nah. Not unless we need to." Veronica winked, making the Courier giggle. That's when Ike returned with their food, handing Boone a plate of brahmin steak, Veronica a desert salad, and the Courier a box of Cheezy Poofs.

The Courier tore the box open, snacking on it as she turned to Ike. "So, Ike... Tell us about Boulder City, please?"

"Most of the town is rubble, destroyed during the Battle of Hoover Dam, and the only other thing around here is the concrete mixing yard."

"What's the concrete used for?"

"The NCR has been constructing bunkers up and down the river. From what I've heard, it's... a little late for that. Travelers over at the 188, just up the road, said that the Legion has overrun a couple of towns to the south."

"Where does the concrete come from?"

"Most of the limestone comes from Quarry Junction out west, but I hear some deathclaws overran the quarry. With no work to be had, all the workers around here have wandered off. I'm the only one left in town, aside from Mike and some NCR soldiers."

"You say deathclaws overran the quarry?"

"Yep. Work has halted because of it. And Boulder City's become even more of a ghost town. Business is pretty bad as a result."

"Hmm... So if someone got rid of the deathclaws, would the workers return to Boulder City?"

"Well, yeah, of course, but you'd have to be crazy to take on a whole herd of deathclaws."

Boone swallowed hard. Veronica quirked an eyebrow. The Courier just smiled.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"You mean you seriously wanna try and clear out the deathclaws from Quarry Junction?"

The group had left the Big Horn Saloon and was making their way through town. When the Courier had explained her plan, Boone just sighed and shook his head, while Veronica was incredulous.

"Yes. The entire road is shut down because of it. With the deathclaws gone, people won't need to take such a huge detour up 93 and 95."

"But from where we are, we can reach New Vegas easily by heading north!"

"I don't care. We'll be doing the Mojave a great deed by clearing Quarry Junction."

Their argument was halted when they overheard someone else's argument. Turning, they saw what looked like the center of the town, blocked off with a fence, an NCR officer standing at the gate with a ham radio on the table next to him. But to the left, near a wrecked building and a Pre-War mailbox were three people. Er, two people and a dog. The dog was a typical blue heeler, sitting there and panting in the desert heat. The girl, the Courier had to admit, was pretty, with blonde hair that hung down to frame her face. She was dressed in jeans, a brown jacket, and a black shirt that showed her toned midriff. On her back was a large backpack, but she also had a rifle on her back. The guy she was talking to was dressed in black leather armor that appeared to be backed with gecko hides. She noticed he was very pale, almost ghost white, with black hair like midnight and gray-blue eyes like an overcast sky. Like the girl he was with, he had a large backpack on his back, but instead of a rifle he had an odd .223 pistol on his hip that looked quite different from most the Courier had seen. He had a Pip-Boy on his wrist, too. But, oddest of all... His face was bandaged up, save for his cloudy sky eyes and midnight hair, which was short but shaggy.

"Listen, I know you want to save the NCR soldiers, but think about this! Don't you realize what could happen if you just snuck in there and untied them?" The man said nothing, only quirking an eyebrow at her. "Don't give me that look... Listen, I can tell you're worried what the Great Khans might do to them, but if the hostages escape, the Great Khans could gun them down before they can get away." The man took a step back, as if surprised. "See? I told you, you need to think before you leap." He looked at her with sad eyes. "Don't give me that look..." she chuckled. "You know I can't resist that look."

The Courier ran ahead of her friends to approach them. "Um... Hi! Is something wrong?"

They turned to look at her.

"Oh, hi!" the woman greeted. "I'm Willow. This is Gamble. The dog there is J.T." She gestured to both of them. The dog barked, while the man with the bandaged face gave a wave. She could tell from his eyes that he was smiling at her, putting her nerves at ease.

"I'm the Courier." Her friends caught up. "This is Boone, Veronica, Skynet, Edy, and Betsy. Why were you two arguing?"

The guy, Gamble, looked to Willow. "Well... There's some Great Khans holding some NCR soldiers hostage. Gamble wants to go in and save them, but I'm worried what the Great Khans might do to him or the hostages if he tries to save them."

Gamble tapped Willow on the arm. She offered her hand, and he began tracing his pointer finger across her palm, steadying it by holding her wrist with his other hand.

"Um... Is he deaf?" the Courier asked.

"What? No, just mute. A Legion dog tore out his vocal chords when he was a kid. Still has a scar on his neck from it. I can usually tell how he's feeling or what he's thinking just by looking at him, but for some things he traces words in my palm to tell me." The man nodded.

"You can tell what he wants to say just from looking at him? Wow."

"Well... I've always been perceptive, but it's more something I picked up from traveling with him for so long. He didn't always trace words on my palm, either. Only does that with people he trusts, like me."

The Courier giggled. "Aww! That's sweet!"

Willow blushed. Gamble looked away and scratched his cheek, obviously embarrassed too.

"Listen... I have business with those Great Khans. I'll go in and see if I can negotiate the return of the hostages."

"And if she succeeds, you have to buy us a few rounds at the saloon!" Veronica interjected. The Courier was about to scold her when Willow nodded.

"Deal! Just be careful. Great Khans are tough. Mean, but not crazy."

"Don't worry. I'll be fine." She turned to her friends. "You guys stay here with Willow, Gamble, and J.T. I'll go see what I can do."

"What? But I wanna come with." Veronica complained.

"You shouldn't go in alone." Boone explained.

"No. Veronica, you won't be punching anybody in there. And Boone, they'll probably freak if they see an NCR soldier. I'll be less threatening alone."

"Fine. Just be careful." the scribe cautioned.

The Courier ran up to the gate, but the NCR officer stopped her. "We've got a situation with some Great Khans right now. The brass at McCarran has ordered me to lock down the ruins until it's been resolved."

"Why? What's going on?"

"One of my patrols was on its way back from Novac when it came under fire from the Great Khans. They radioed for reinforcements, but instead of waiting for us, they chased the Khans into the ruins where they were caught in a crossfire. No deaths, but not all the squad got out. The Khans have Private Ackerman and Private Gilbert as hostages."

"What are you going to do about the hostages, sir?"

"Acceptable casualties, I've been told. I don't like it, but the brass has their reasons."

The Courier gasped. "No! We have to save them! Let me head in! I can try to negotiate a deal with the Great Khans!"

The soldier seemed taken aback. "Normally I'd turn you down since I have no idea who you are, but considering that the hostages are as good as dead when we attack... All right, I'm going to give you a chance to talk to the Great Khans. Their leaders are two men named Jessup and McMurphy. If we hear shooting, we'll be coming in, but it'll probably be too late for you."

"I understand. But don't worry. I may not look it, but I can handle myself in a fight."

"Good luck."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

She walked in to find a group of NCR soldiers lined up near the gate. They were all intently watching a mostly intact building that the Great Khans were gathered around. She walked past them, earning suspicious glances, and entered.

"What the hell? You're that Courier Benny wasted back in Goodsprings! You're supposed to be dead!"

She was greeted by three Great Khans. Two of them she recognized as the two standing on either side of Benny when she was shot in the head. She assumed they were Jessup and McMurphy. The Courier giggled, raising her arms over her head and waving them back and forth.

"I'm a ghost, here to haunt you! Oooooooo!"

"All right, quit fucking around. You survived and you tracked us down. Damn, and I thought us Great Khans were hard to kill. What do you want?"

She swallowed hard. Great, of all the times for her nerves to leave her. She tried to stand her ground, spreading her stance and trying to look intimidating. "Where's the Platinum Chip?"

"Don't have it. Benny stole it, right before he stabbed us in the back. He's probably back at the Strip by now, laughin' at us."

Well, there goes that lead. But she had a feeling she'd be heading to New Vegas soon anyway. "You want to get out of here alive, right?"

"Well, yeah." McMurphy spoke up. "We could shoot our way out, but we'd rather get to back to Red Rock Canyon without a few holes in us."

The Courier smiled. "Then it's a good thing I'm here to negotiate."

Jessup scoffed. "Negotiate? What's to negotiate? The NCR backs off, we walk outta here, nobody gets hurt."

"No. That's unacceptable. Free the hostages now, and I'll have the NCR escort you out of their territory."

"What? Are you crazy?"

"Do it, Jessup."

The Khan turned to look at McMurphy like he was crazy. "What? Why?"

"Don't try to hide it, Jessup. I wasn't the only one who seriously felt bad about wasting an innocent courier over some package she knew nothin' about. We helped her get shot in the head, and now she wants to help us get out of here alive and back to Red Rock. I don't know about you, but I feel we owe her something for what we put her through. I say, the least we can do is trust her."

Jessup looked like he was about to scream something in a rage to his larger partner, but froze, lowering his arms and seeming to calm down. "You're right. Dammit, you're right. Shit, you always had a big heart for a Khan."

The man turned back to the Courier. "Listen... Wasting you in Goodsprings? That wasn't our idea. We didn't even want Benny to do it. I'm... sorry... we didn't stand up for you then. And I don't apologize very often... But if you think freeing the hostages will get us out of here safely... Well, like McMurphy says, the least we can do to make up for what Benny did to you is trust you."

She smiled up at him. "Thank you, Jessup. Thank you, McMurphy. I promise, you'll make it back home to Red Rock alive. And I don't break my promises."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

She exited the building with Jessup and McMurphy, who told the Khan guarding the hostages to let them go. She gave him a skeptical look, but he repeated the order firmly. The two privates ran to the exit as fast as they could. The Courier followed them, but at a more leisurely pace. When she exited, the officer she talked to earlier turned to her.

"I'm glad you were able to get my people freed, but there's a new problem. I just got orders to take out the Great Khans, hostages or not."

"What? But... But the Great Khans let the hostages go in exchange for their freedom!"

"My hands are tied. I can't go against orders... Can I?"

The Courier placed her hands on her hips, staring up at the much taller soldier with a frown and furrowed brow. "The Great Khans are victims in all of this. They deserve to go free. If you have _any_ integrity _whatsoever_, you'll honor the deal."

The officer sighed."You're right. The Great Khans are free to go."

"Great!" She ran inside to tell the Great Khans the news.

"Good. Thanks, I guess." Jessup told her. "Now we've got a long walk ahead of us to Red Rock Canyon."

"Wait! Don't go yet!" The Courier urged him, grabbing his wrist.

"What? Why the hell not?"

"You need to come to the Big Horn Saloon for a drink with me! To celebrate!"

Jessup paused, looking to McMurphy. "What?" The taller man shrugged.

The Courier turned to Lieutenant Monroe and the two freed hostages. "You too! C'mon, drinks are on me!"

Lieutenant Monroe wasn't sure how the kid was able to do it, but soon all the Great Khans and every NCR soldier in town was practically partying at the Big Horn Saloon.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Veronica turned to Boone, sipping her bottle of vodka. "So... Can the Courier normally get people who were just at each other's throats to spend the next moment enjoying each other's company?"

Boone sipped his scotch. "Haven't been with her much longer than you, but she got me to give up long thought-out plans of revenge."

"The human is a strange one." Skynet added. "Skynet finds these festivities entirely new. Skynet will have to spend the rest of the night analyzing them."

Edy beeped happily.

"So, Lieutenant Monroe, tell me about Hoover Dam." the Courier asked the officer. He had a beer, but she was content to stick to her Nuka-Cola. Alcohol gave her such a headache.

The lieutenant's reply was slightly slurred. "It's one of the biggest sources of electrical power in the region, so the NCR's fortified the place pretty heavily. When President Kimball shows up on his inspection tour, I'm sure he'll be confident that the Dam is safe and secure."

"The NCR President is coming to Hoover Dam?"

"It's probably just a political thing. You know, give a few speeches, shake hands with the troops, boost morale."

"I guess that makes sense. Any chance I can get in to see it?"

"Nope. Only a collection of NCR soldiers and workers at the Dam will be allowed in. Security will be pretty tight. Besides, it's not for a while now. Probably months."

"Drat. Well, hopefully I'll get to hear about it when it happens."

She stepped over to where Willow and Gamble were sitting with J.T. at their feet. Willow seemed to prefer a Nuka-Cola Quartz, while Gamble was sipping a Sunset Sarsaparilla, his bandages parted just enough for the bottle to meet his mouth.

"So, Willow, Gamble. How long have you been travelling together?"

"Believe it or not, only about a month now." Willow told her. Gamble just nodded. "I was robbed by some Vipers on the road just north of the Mojave Outpost, when Gamble drives up on his motorcycle and stops right next to me. I explained my situation, and he helped me get my stuff back."

The bandaged man took Willow's hand and began tracing letters in her palm with his finger. Willow waited a while, focusing before speaking. "Gamble says that when he saw me by the side of the road, alone, he knew I was in some kind of trouble. He knew he had to help me, but he didn't expect us to stick together so long after that."

"Wow. You have a motorcycle, Gamble?"

"Yeah. It runs on microfusion cells. He has a sidecar that he only used for luggage, so it was no trouble to take me along. When he got me J.T., J.T. would ride in the sidecar, while I just clung to Gamble's back. It was a bit awkward at first, but I've gotten used to it. We're best friends now."

"The two of you seem really close. Where are you headed next?"

"We're heading north for New Vegas. There's a doctor there that Gamble needs to see about his implants."

The Courier quirked her head to the side a little. "Implants?"

"Cybernetic enhancements. Technically, Gamble's a cyborg."

"Seriously?" The Courier exclaimed. Luckily, it wasn't too out of place in the cacophony of the busy saloon.

"Yeah. His skeleton is coated with metal, he has a self healing factor, and his skin cells are bolstered with iron. Among that, he has several brain components like a probability calculator and an empathy synthesizer."

"That's amazing!"

Gamble looked down at the ground, rubbing the back of his head. She couldn't tell with his bandages, but she was sure he was blushing.

Just then, Jessup walked up, staggering a little.

"Hey, thanks for helpin' us outta there. Never thought I'd be partyin' with NCR soldiers. Papa Khan would kill me if he knew."

"Papa Khan?"

"He's the leader of the Great Khans. Say, I never caught your name."

"I don't remember. When Benny shot me in the head, I lost my memory. For now, I'm the Courier."

"Shit! Now that just isn't fair! I can't help but feel responsible for that." He hiccupped.

The Courier shook her head. "It's okay. It's Benny's fault, not yours. By the way, what can you tell me about him?

"He's one of the Chairmen."

"Chairmen?"

"Big shots who run The Tops casino in New Vegas. A friend from the city contacted me with info on a big job. I shoulda known that the caps were too good to be true, but there was still no way I could pass up the chance."

"Do you know why he betrayed you?"

"He's a snake, that's why. He owed us the rest of the pay for the job, so maybe he didn't wanna pay up."

"I'm sorry. But... Do you know anything about the Platinum Chip Benny wanted?"

"Just a big, fancy poker chip as far as I know. Don't know why anyone would make one out of platinum, though."

"Darn... I know so little, and I'm barely any closer to answers than when I started out..."

Jessup patted her on the back. "Hey, don't worry about it. Here. A souvenir for you. It's Benny's lighter. Shove it up his ass for us when you catch up to him."

He held up a cigarette lighter that looked expensively engraved, which he tossed up in an arc into her hands. She fumbled with it a bit before getting a grip on it.

"Oh, and this is the Chairmen job offer I got. If you ever need proof of it." He handed a piece of paper to her. She gave it a read.

_Thought you'd like to know that one of the Chairmen bigwigs from The Tops is looking to hire muscle for a job out by Goodsprings. I don't know what it's about, though - the details are all hush hush._

_The pay seems too good to be true, but I figured I'd pass the info your way in case it's all on the level. Let me know and I'll put you in contact with this Benny fellow._

"Now... Why the hell are you drinkin' Nuka-Cola instead of a good beer? This is supposed to be a party!"

"What? But... Um... I don't drink..."

"No way am I listenin' to that! Hey, Ike! Beer over here for the Courier!"

Sighing, she reached into her backpack and gave herself a quick shot of Med-X. Hopefully that would dull any headaches she'd get. She could just say no, but peer pressure is a bitch...

After only a few beers, the Courier remarked how hot it was in the saloon. Long story short, Veronica and Boone had to escort her out and to the inn before she shed the rest of her clothes.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The Courier awoke, naked and with a headache, the next morning. Thankfully, she was in their motel room. It seemed she hadn't gotten drunk enough last night for memory loss, but... She knew she would never drink again. Not when she would end up flashing everyone.

"Morning!" It was Veronica.

"Um... Hi... How much did I have last night?"

"Three beers. You're no lightweight, I can say that much. I can't handle two vodkas before I get tipsy. Boone got it worse, though. Five scotches. He's still asleep."

The Courier sighed. "Oh... Well, when he wakes up, we need to stop by the Big Horn Saloon so I can apologize to Ike. Maybe get some breakfast."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The group left the Big Horn Saloon, stopping as the Courier checked her Pip-Boy map, when a familiar voice called out.

"Fancy meetin' you here, friend!"

The Courier turned to see Victor! "Victor! It's great to see you again!" She ran up and threw her arms around his chassis.

"Yuuup! This is gettin' a might embarrassin'. People are gonna start to talk." The robot laughed.

The Courier giggled. "How did you get here?"

"Just rollin' along on my spurs. Looks like I just might make it to New Vegas after all."

"Did you hear about what happened with the Great Khans?"

"Yup. Guess it's just down to you and fancy-pants. I wouldn't worry about him. He looks all hat and no cattle if you ask me."

"I guess... Oh! Speaking of Benny, did you see him come this way?"

"Fancy-pants? Naw, I ain't seen hide nor hair of him since the tussle in Goodsprings. I'm sure he went back to the soft livin' of New Vegas, though."

"Thanks so much Victor! Oh, I want you to meet my friends." She pointed to her group just a few yards away. "That's Boone, Veronica, Skynet, Edy, and Betsy."

"Looks like you've got quite a party with ya, pardner."

"Thanks, Victor. I really wish you'd join us, though."

"Naw, ol' Vic'll just slow ya down. I should probably get movin'. Look me up when ya get to New Vegas. I'll buy the first round."

"Sure! Bye, Victor!"

The Courier returned to her group. "Who was that?" Veronica asked.

"Oh, that was Victor. When I was shot twice in the head, I was buried in a grave. Victor dug me out and took me to a doctor himself. I owe him a lot." She blushed at the thought.

Boone groaned. Veronica giggled. "He's your knight in shining chassis, huh?"

The Courier's blush deepened. "N-No! I just owe him my life, is all!"

"Sure. Sure. We should get moving."

"Um... R-Right." She gave a sigh of relief that Veronica was dropping it.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Skynet believes the human is lost."

"C'mon, I'm the one with the Pip-Boy, aren't I? This thing has a map."

"For once, I'm gonna agree with that damn robot. We're lost aren't we?"

Okay, she had to admit, they were lost. Best she could tell, they were somewhere south of Boulder City. She figured it'd be easier to head directly south instead of making their way back to the 188 Trading Post, but... now she was questioning the wisdom of that.

"Hey, Courier. Maybe we should camp here for the night." Veronica suggested.

The Courier sighed. "Um... F-Fine... I guess we can... Who's turn is it to cook?"

"The Robobrain's." Boone muttered with a groan.

"It is not Skynet's fault that Skynet has no taste buds. If Skynet's cooking is so bad, maybe Skynet should not be the one preparing food."

"Fine, fine. Veronica, you wanna take Skynet's turn tonight?" Boone asked the scribe.

"What? No way! My fingers are still burned from last time!"

"Skynet checked the human's fingers. They were perfectly fine."

"Hey, they were burned. I know what that feels like."

The Courier sighed. "Quiet, please, all of you. I'll cook tonight."

Sigh... Now that they had Benny's lighter, they could effectively set up a campfire anywhere. But that meant _someone_ had to cook. To be fair, the Courier decided they would take turns. Edy and Betsy were exempt considering their lack of hands, but she gave Skynet a turn because, really, she thought of him just as much a person as Boone and Veronica. Unfortunately, Boone had never cooked before, while Veronica had eaten old Pre-War packaged food most of her life. Neither had any experience. Skynet, on the other hand, treated cooking as a chemistry experiment, which was not the best approach to say the least. It seemed only the Courier herself had minimal skill with a pot and campfire, so long as you didn't mind moderately charred gecko meat garnished with buffalo gourd seeds. When the gecko meat ended up exploding this night, though, they had to settle for just some Pre-War packaged food. They ended up going to bed that night without a very satisfying meal...

It was that night that the Courier lay on her bedroll, trying to fall asleep. Thoughts ran through her head about everything that'd happened so far. She'd accomplished a lot, yet so little. She'd brought law back to Primm. Defended Goodsprings against a Powder Ganger attack. Helped the NCR retake the correctional facility. Helped a group of ghouls achieve their dream. Saved a town's cattle supply. And yet... she really wasn't any closer to finding out who she was or catching up with Benny. A lot of charity work, sure, but she was just in the dark about herself and the secret of the Platinum Chip as when she started. She couldn't help but wonder if she was going about this the wrong way... No. She should be happy about all the good she was accomplishing. A lot of places around the Mojave were better off thanks to her.

She was shaken from her thoughts by an unusual sound. It sounded like it was off in the distance, but... she'd never heard a sound quite like it. It was like a quivering kazoo, or something... She poked her head out of the tent and widened her eyes at what she saw.

A UFO! A flying saucer! No way! She had to be dreaming! The flying saucer flew directly over their campsite and to the south, landing just on the other side of a hill. The Courier looked to Veronica and Boone. They were still sound asleep. She had to go investigate! Though... She had to go alone. Skynet and Edy had to watch over everyone while they slept. The Courier hurriedly got dressed and made her way south. She had to find out if aliens really existed or if she had just gone crazy.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

She was shocked by what she found. Aliens! Green-skinned men! There was one in a dark gray jumpsuit, one in a red jumpsuit, and one in a white jumpsuit with red and gray trim and a round shimmering helmet. They were congregating around a crate-like cage made from some metal. An alien ship was hovering just next to it, emitting a plume of smoke!

She tried to stay low, but they spotted her. Two of them pulled out strange-looking pistols and fired blue energy beams at her, but the one with the helmet brandished a strange-looking rifle instead. The Courier dashed in, using her footwork to dodge the beams, and landed a left-right hook and a knee to the stomach of the one in the gray jumpsuit. It fell pretty easily. She dashed to the one in the red jumpsuit and it went down easily as well. The one with the rifle and helmet, though, appeared to have some sort of barrier surrounding his body. She jumped and dodged his fire all while applying pressure. Eventually, the barrier broke, and she landed a solid kick to his chest.

In his pockets, she found a strange-looking key. She pressed the button on it, and the doors on the cage flew upon. The Courier looked inside to see an alien in a similar suit to the one that had the key, but without the helmet. She raised her fists, prepared for a fight. The alien raised its hands, the Courier noting the longer fingers ending in nubs.

"Please, please, don't hurt me! I don't mean you any harm!"

She was surprised by the alien's voice. It sounded... feminine. Was it a she? "Wh-Who are you?" The Courier stammered, her whole body trembling.

"I'm Neiila! Nice to meet ya! I'm... Or rather, _was,_ lieutenant of the scouts from our Mothership Zeta." the alien explained.

"Um... M-Mothership Z-Zeta?"

"Yeppers!" the alien chirped. "Years ago, our leaders were conducting experiments on the citizens of your planet. Zeta was our Mothership, but our experiments were interrupted."

"Interrupted? How? And by who?"

"Dunno! I wasn't there when it happened. I think I heard one of the earthlings we abducted teamed up with some other earthlings and took control of the Mothership. All I know is your people called her the 'Lone Wanderer'."

"Um... Are you sure you won't attack me?"

"Promise!" the alien chirped.

"Okay, so... Neiila, right? Why were you in a cage?"

"We were sent from Mothership Zeta just before its takeover to investigate a bunker that looked really interesting! Turned out the bunker contained weapons we planned to test on a nearby earthling settlement. I didn't wanna do it, so I..." the alien rubbed the back of her head. "Kinda got in a fight with the captain. We ended up crashing here, so they locked me up until they could fix the ship. Unfortunately... You only killed one squad. Another is on their way right now in response to our distress transmission. Kinda sucks, I guess."

"What? What do they plan to do?" The Courier exclaimed.

"Um... Probably test out the weapons on that human settlement to the north."

"No! I have to stop them!"

"Oh, oh!" the alien hopped up and down. "Let me help! I can help ya find 'em!"

"Um... Well, you definitely seem friendlier than the ones I fought outside. Can you fight?"

"Oh, not to worry! I'll just grab my rifle and baton from the ship!"

"Um... Okay. But... Just don't try anything, okay?"

"Thanks! You won't be disappointed!" the alien chirped.

"Um... I'm the Courier, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Courier!"

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"So, Neiila... You were a lieutenant? How did that work?"

"Well, my specialty was survival in hostile terrain."

"Really? What's that mean?"

"You name any kind of place, be it a tundra, desert, jungle, or forest, and I can survive there. I can hunt, forage, scavenge, and cook. Heck, I can even start a campfire."

"You can cook? Really? Wow, we sure could use someone who can cook."

"We?"

"My friends. We're travelling together. So far, none of us can cook at a campfire." The Courier giggled. "The most I can make is some burned gecko steak."

"Huh. Cool. Oh! Here's the bunker!"

There was a metal door set into the side of a ridge. Neiila easily unlocked the door, leading the Courier inside. Two aliens in white jumpsuits greeted her.

"What is that? Neiila? Together with a human?"

"That's right!" Neiila barked. "We're here to stop you!"

"But why?" the alien asked.

"Because the Earth is worth protecting." The Courier explained, smiling. Neiila nodded.

"Silly human, you will not stop us!" He pulled out another one of those strange pistols and fired. The Courier dived to the side opposite Neiila, who found cover behind a crate and fired with her rifle. She knocked the pistol out of the alien's hand, giving the Courier the chance to run in and snap his neck with a flying kick to the head. She knocked the second one to his knees with a leg sweep, giving Neiila the chance to blast him in the head.

"Whew... That should slow them down... Wait... Oh no! No no no no!"

"What's wrong, Neiila?"

"You don't understand! HE'S here! HE'LL kill us both!"

The Courier felt a tremble go up her spine. "H-He? Who's he?"

"General Zoda. He was second in command at Zeta."

The Courier swallowed hard. "I guess he's probably pretty angry right now?"

"Definitely."

"Um... H-How do you know he's here?"

"I can _sense_ him."

"You... You can sense him? That's amazing!"

"No, he'll kill us!"

"Oh. Then we should probably settle this, Neiila."

"Settle this? You can't compare him to the ones you've seen so far!"

"Is he green?"

"Yeah..."

"Is he from outer space?"

"Um... Yeah?"

The Courier giggled. "Then I can."

Neiila sighed. "I just hope you know what you're doing..."

"Usually I don't, but it's worked out well so far. Let's go."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The pair exited the bunker to be greeted by an alien in a jet black jumpsuit with a blue insignia on his left breast. He was surrounded by three aliens in white jumpsuits with red and gray trim, toting those weird rifles.

"Well, well, well. Look what we have here. Neiila and her human friend." he mocked.

"A-Are you General Zoda?" The Courier stammered.

"No, you fool! I am Commander Xerxes!"

The Courier swallowed hard. "Um... L-Leave peacefully and no one will get hurt!"

"You are the one who will get hurt! Get them!"

Neiila took cover and started firing on the three alien soldiers with Xerxes, while the Courier jumped in and knocked the commander to the ground with a kick to the chest. She rushed for the soldiers, Neiila managing to kill one, so the Courier charged in and nailed the second on the jaw with her fist. A kick to his stomach and he was done on the ground. A stomp ended him just as Neiila killed the third. The Courier was ready to cheer for victory, but something hit her in the back, shocking her, while a blue energy beam knocked Neiila's rifle out of her hand. Commander Xerxes stood over her, pointing his pistol at the Courier's head.

But then... A bullet went straight through his head. The alien fell to the ground, dead. The Courier turned to look in the direction of the gunshot, only to see a man in a trench coat and fedora standing there with a .44 magnum revolver, before vanishing with a shimmer of light. Confused, she turned to Neiila, who had retrieved her rifle and was ejecting a power module out of it to reload. Was she the only one who saw that man there?

Just as the Courier pulled herself to her feet, another alien began casually walking up to them, his hands behind his back. He was dressed in a jet black jumpsuit with some kind of brown coat over it.

"Neiila, I always knew you were too soft. Look where it brought you now."

"That's General Zoda!" Neiila cried in alarm.

"That's right, human scum! I am General Zoda! Behold my power!"

"W-We just wiped out your squad!" The Courier stammered, her legs trembling. "L-Leave and we w-won't hurt you!"

"Pah, they are replaceable. And they will gladly die for me."

The Courier's fists clenched. "How can you think so little of the people who depend on you?"

"Hah! You know nothing, puny human. Now, I will wipe you out along with this traitor and dance upon your corpse."

General Zoda pulled out some kind of pistol unlike the ones the other aliens had been carrying. He fired a blue beam, which created an explosion that threw the Courier and Neiila in separate directions. She scrambled to her feet and took cover behind a nearby boulder. Peeking over, it seemed the General was focusing his attention of Neiila. He probably didn't consider her a threat. She crept up behind him in an attempt to snap his neck, but he whirled around and hit her with some kind of baton that gave her an electric shock. The Courier stumbled back, but the General turned around when he felt a shot hit him in the back of his head. He fired again, blowing up the rock Neiila had been hiding behind. The Courier took this chance to tackle the alien general to the ground. He dropped his gun, but brought up his shock baton. Instead, the Courier caught it, prying it out of his hands and shocking him with it.

"Neiila! Hurry!"

The Alien girl fumbled with her rifle, aiming it straight for the general's head. She fired, reducing his head to ashes.

The Courier fell to the ground, panting.

"I... I can't believe we did it. He's really dead!" the alien girl cheered.

The Courier smiled. "I told you we could do it, Neiila."

"Thank you, Courier. You really are a special species... you humans..."

The Courier giggled, pulling herself into a sitting position. "I'm happy you think so. What will you do now?"

"I have no idea. I have no way to get back home, and I kinda like Earth. But I don't think I could survive without a human to guide me..."

The Courier smiled, standing up and walking over to grab Neiila's hands. "You should come with me! I already have several friends I travel with. You can join our little family."

"Family? But... will they accept me?"

"Of course! But, um... I'm not sure you should just walk around like this. Maybe a disguise?"

"Oh, right!" Neiila giggled. "I have a cloak that should hide me."

"Great! If they ask, you can just say you have a deformity you want to hide, or something."

Boone and Veronica were a bit skeptical of this short, cloaked person at first. But they warmed up to her upon tasting her mole rat stew.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Author's Notes:

**1.** Veronica is wearing the red Brotherhood Scribe Robes instead of the hobo robes she wears in the game. Her hood is also red to match the robe.

**2.** The Electronic Lock Pick Mark II is an item from Fallout 2 used to pick electronic locks and card readers. The locksmithing tools Veronica has are an Expanded Lock Pick Set, used in Fallout 2 for picking pin and tumbler locks. Both were replaced by Bobby Pins in Fallout 3 and New Vegas.

**3.** Cheezy Poofs were a consumable item in Fallout 2. They were cheese flavored puffs, a favorite of Brain the talking Mole Rat, who would insist the player give him some if there were any in their inventory. Eric Cartman's favorite snack from South Park is likely a reference to Fallout 2's Cheezy Poofs.

**4.** Willow belongs to LlamaRCA, used with permission.

**5.** Neiila belongs to Vio and Ellyon, used with permission.


	6. Chapter 5: Dirge for Nipton

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Fallout. Fallout belongs to Bethesda, who purchased the rights from Black Isle.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Fallout:** New Vegas

Unknown Origins

By _Cyberweasel89_

**Chapter 5:** Dirge for Nipton

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The gang stopped by Novac on their way south. The Courier was relieved to see Chris doing fine. They stopped by the gift shop to pick up some proper cooking supplies for Neiila. Their trek further south was largely uneventful, save for a camp of Vipers. But as they neared the point where the road turned west, the Courier was met with a small farm that looked recently abandoned. She felt oddly drawn to it, insisting they stop there. Aside from crops and water pumps, there was only one building, and it was a small one-room shack. As the Courier entered, she was pulled to the stove, where a stained cleaver sat. She grasped it by the handle, lifting it up to inspect it. She wasn't sure why, but... it seemed... familiar.

A sudden intense pain hit her head, nearly making her double over. Her grip tightened on the stained cleaver, clenching her emerald green eyes shut to endure the pain. That's when an image entered her mind. There was a woman nearby, dressed in a casual gown and apron, cooking over a stove with a boiling pot. The Courier noted her porcelain skin and platinum blonde hair, and the obvious swell of large breasts underneath her modest attire. She looked down to find herself chopping up strips of meat with a cleaver, standing on a stool to reach the kitchen counter.

"_Kaya! Be careful!"_

The cleaver clipped her finger. She dropped it, wincing and waving her hand through the air. The tall woman, her face obscured by a haze, walked up and brought her to the sink, washing the blood off.

"_I swear, Kaya. You'll never get the hang of cooking. Hurry up, go fetch the first aid kit. That blade was handling raw meat. We'll need to disinfect your cut."_

"_Mommy... Are you mad at me?"_ That was her voice, though much younger...

"_Of course not, Kaya. Accidents happen. That's how we learn. I must say, though, that cleaver nearly chopped your finger off."_ The woman giggled. She felt herself put at ease by the sound of it. _"We should call it the Chopper."_

She heard herself giggle, rushing off to retrieve the first aid kit.

"Courier? Courier!"

She was jolted from the vision by a hand shaking her shoulder. Looking up, she saw it was Veronica. Boone and Neiila stood nearby, looking worried.

"I-It's nothing... I'm fine. Um... Can we camp here tonight? The crops look good enough to harvest for dinner, and we _do_ have our new chef. We can lay out our bedrolls in here, right?"

Reluctantly, they agreed. The Courier pocketed the Chopper in Betsy's pack. As she settled in for the night, her thoughts turned to her strange vision... Her mother... And her name...

Kaya...

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The next day, the group set off west toward Nipton. It was nearing night when they made camp just outside of town.

"So... Neiila, was it?" Veronica asked the short, cloaked girl.

"Yeppers! Whatcha need?"

"Why are you wearing that cloak again?"

The alien girl was currently manning a frying pan and spatula over the campfire. She really was an expert at making homecooked meals using supplies from the wilderness. "Oh, just a silly old deformity I wanna hide, is all."

"Okay... I have to say, though, you're... oddly chipper... I mean, I would've thought someone so deformed they have to hide their appearance would be more... I dunno, depressed."

"Why be depressed when ya can smile, is what I say! Brighten the world and stuff. Ya know? Oh, ya want the first mirelurk cake?"

"Damn right!"

The Courier looked over at Boone. He'd fallen asleep early tonight. Must've been all the heavy drinking he did. Either that or the lunch Neiila made earlier that day was too rich for him. But her gaze kept turning to the town of Nipton. That smoke rising from the town looked... ominous. And she had a strange feeling deep in the pit of her stomach. She stood up, turning to her companions.

"I'm going to go scout out Nipton, guys."

Veronica looked up. "Alone? Can't you wait until tomorrow?"

"No. I've got a bad feeling. I need to check this out, or I won't be able to sleep tonight. You guys stay here. You'll need to watch Boone while he sleeps"

"The human should not go alone." Skynet pointed out.

"I guess I'll take Edy with me, then..."

"Okay. Be careful..." Neiila urged her.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The entire town smelled of death and burning rubber. As she passed the line of wrecked cars that formed the wall around the town, a man in an NCRCF uniform ran up to her.

"YEAH!" he roared. "Who won the lottery? I did! Smell that air! Couldn't you just drink it like booze? Ah ha ha ha ha!"

"Um... Are you a Powder Ganger, sir?" the Courier asked him.

"Powder Ganger? What? I mean, yeah, used to be, sure. But not no more! Powder Gang is small, time, man. I'm a winner! I won the motherfucking lot-ter-ry! Ha ha HA!"

"Um... Lottery? What kind of lottery did you win, sir?"

"What lottery? _The_ lottery, that's what lottery! Are you stupid? Only lottery that matters! Ugh, oh my God, smell that air! Heh ha!"

"Um... Are you feeling all right?"

"Are you kidding me? Never felt better! YEAH!"

"Um... Is there anyone who can tell me what happened here, sir?"

"What? Yeah, just talk to Boxcars over in the general store. As for me, I am OUTTA here!"

Significantly disturbed, the Courier let the Powder Ganger run off as she and Edy entered the general store.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

She found another man in an NCRCF uniform, sitting on a chair with horribly bloodied and battered legs.

"Um? Are you Boxcars?" the Courier asked him.

"Yes! What the fuck do _you_ want?"

She took a step back, frightened at his hostile tone. "Um... C-Can you tell me what h-happened here, sir?"

"The Legion happened. What the fuck's it look like?"

Her eye widened. "The Legion attacked? But... how did you survive?"

"Luck, that's how! I'm just that fucking lucky! You're lookin' at the second place winner of the Nipton lottery. That asshole Swanick took first place, so _him_ they let walk."

"Was that the man outside? He mentioned winning the lottery. What was it?"

"It ain't like we came to Nipton to play it! Me and my crew had it worked out to kidnap some NCR troopers who come to town to get laid. Had it all worked out with the scumbag mayor. We were gonna ransom them off, keep their weapons for ourselves, a nice score."

"That's horrible... What went wrong?"

"We get in position, and next thing we know, we're surrounded by those fucking Legion freaks. They dragged us and everybody else into the center of town. And that asshole with a dog on his head, he starts talkin' about how we're _bad_ people. He said we needed to be punished for what we did. Not all of us, but some of us. And then he gives everyone a fucking lottery ticket."

"Lottery tickets? Why?"

"Why do you think? He started drawing tickets and that's how people got punished! First up was the crucifixions. God damn, but those when on, and on, and on... Then came the 'lucky losers'. They got decapitated. Guess that's 'lucky' 'cause it's pretty quick. Third-place runners up got enslaved. I got the fuck beat out of my legs, and the winner they let go free."

"What happened to the mayor?"

"Him? When his ticket came up, they burned him alive on a pile of tires!"

"And some were enslaved, you say?"

"Yeah, a bunch of those Legion fucks dragged them off right away. They was headed east, if you're feelin' heroic."

The Courier smiled at him. "Don't worry. I'll save them."

"Don't act like you'd be doin' me a favor. I don't give a fuck."

Ouch. "Why are you still here, though?"

"I dunno, I just love it here. What the fuck do you think, asshole?" She shrunk back and whimpered. "Prize for second place was I got to live, but they beat my legs with fucking hammers. I'm fucking crippled, get it?"

"Um... Would some Med-X help with the pain?"

"Then you're a fucking dream come true, ain't ya? How many you gonna give me?"

"Um... I can spare five doses, Mr. Boxcars, sir."

"Five doses? Nice! A fella could put himself out of his misery with five doses." He sounded ecstatic.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

She exited the general store and hung a left, going up the road to the town hall. She found several Powder Gangers crucified along the road, and as she came to the town square some Legion soldiers exited the building, one with a dog's head as a hat walking up to her. She swallowed hard, while Edy beeped in fright.

"Don't worry. I won't have you lashed to a cross like the rest of these degenerates. It's useful that you happened by. I want you to witness the fate of the town of Nipton, to memorize every detail. And then, when you move on? I want you to teach everyone you meet the lesson that Caesar's Legion taught here. Especially any NCR troops you run across."

"What?" she asked, her voice quivering. "What kind of 'lesson' could you have possibly taught here?"

"Where to begin? That they are weak, and we are strong? This much was known already. But the depths of their moral sickness, their... dissolution? Nipton serves as the perfect object lesson."

"Moral sickness? What..." She struggled to choke back a sob. "What exactly happened here?"

"Nipton was a wicked place, debased and corrupt. It served all comers, so long as they paid. Profligate troops, Powder Gangers, men of the Legion such as myself. The people here didn't care. It was a town... of whores. For a pittance, the town agreed to lead those it had sheltered into a trap. Only when I sprang it did they realize _they_ were caught inside it, too."

"You captured everyone? H-How could you?" She was dangerously close to tears now.

"Yes, and herded them to the center of town. I told them their sins, the foremost being disloyalty. I told them that when Legionaries are disloyal, some are punished, the others made to watch. And I announced the lottery. Each clutched his ticket, hoping it would set him free. Each did nothing, even when... _loved_ ones... were dragged away to be killed."

She brought her trembling hands to her mouth in horror. "You... You _slaughtered_ innocent civilians?"

"Ha! Innocent? Hardly. Cowardly, though. They outnumbered us, yet only a few actually tried to fight back. Three of my men were killed, but despite this the rest did nothing to resist. They stood and watched as their fellows were butchered, crucified, and burned, one by one. They stood and hoped their turn would not come. Each cared only for himself."

"You're... You're crimes are unforgivable!"

"As are all crimes." The man dismissed. "If you feel strongly about it, attack us, and soon you won't feel a thing."

The man and his men turned and left, leaving the Courier to fall to her knees and cry. She sat there for quite a while, just crying, cursing the Legion for their cruelty, and praying for the souls of Nipton, while Edy hovered over her and beeped in concern.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The Courier returned to her friends with the news. Boone was disappointed that she hadn't killed the Legionaries at Nipton, but she made up for it by taking everyone to the Legion raid camp nearby and freeing the captured Powder Gangers. As per the Courier's insistence, they spent the next few days collecting the dead and burying them. Looking through the mayor's office, it seemed he had agreed to let the Legion do this, unaware that he would die as well. He seemed to be a real scumbag, having turned the town into one big whorehouse, double-dealing with both the NCR and the Powder Gangers. The Courier spent her time tracking down every single discarded lottery ticket, intending to keep them as a reminder of what happened on this day. She found thirty tickets. The rest had been lost to the bonfires and the winds.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

It was two days later that they came upon a road rest stop that Mayor Steyn had mentioned on his computer. Inside, they found a stockpile of Pre-War packaged food. They spent the night and made it to the Mojave Outpost the next morning.

The sight they found was breathtaking. Two humongous wireframe statues stood shaking hands at the entrance to the outpost. The Courier stood gaping at it for several moments before a man with a beard in NCR armor walked up.

"I'm Sergeant Kilborn. Welcome to the Mojave Outpost."

"Thanks, Sergeant Kilborn, sir. Can you tell us about the Outpost?"

"Ah, the Mojave Outpost. Watching a lot of nothing. Feels like a big brahmin pen for caravans. They've been stopped for a while, waiting for the roads north to clear... Or waiting for their clearance papers to go through. Looks like you've walked a ways, so if you need to shake the dust off, head to the barracks. The bar's there. Not much, but better than nothing."

"Do you know what those statues are of?"

"Those two? Represents unification. Mostly good for shade. Won't do much else when the Legion reaches us."

"Wow. Um... Does anyone need any help around here?"

"Nothing I know of. But if you've come from the east, means you can travel freer than most. Might check the barracks. Someone might need you to hoof it somewhere. Just be careful if you go up on the roof. Got a sniper watching the road. If your gear's in need of repair, HQ's also worth checking out. Talk to Major Knight, he can help. Provided you got a pen and plenty of ink."

"Thanks, Sergeant Kilborn, sir."

She walked up to the sign below the two statues, brushing the dirt and sand off it to read the plaque.

"Unification Monument. In the year 2271, the Desert Rangers of Nevada and rangers of the New California Republic met at this spot to sign the Ranger Unification Treaty. Under this treaty, the Desert Rangers agreed to be absorbed into the NCR in exchange for NCR's protection of Hoover Dam, New Vegas, and southern Nevada against the forces of Caesar's Legion. Huh."

Sergeant Kilborn walked back up to her. "By the way, any word on Nipton? There's been no travelers between the town and here, and that smoke is a strange sight."

The Courier's face fell. "Um... The Legion attacked Nipton... They burned and killed everyone..."

"What? There's no way... We're miles from the Colorado! They... They aren't even waiting for the Dam to fall. They're already inside the borders... We'll never stop them, not at this rate. We're doomed... Thanks for bringing the word. Even if the news is bad, I'll let the men know."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Her heart was heavy as she stepped into the HQ building. She was greeted by a man with a pen and book at a counter, a ham radio sitting just to his right.

"Caravan, citizen, pilgrim, or...?" the man at the counter droned, as if he asked the question to everyone.

"Um... uh... C-Courier, sir."

"Just need something for the log book. Keeping tabs on traffic through the outpost... although mostly just in, not out these days. If you're looking for the commanding officer, he's in the back. Although... he's got a lot on his plate, so if you speak with him... keep it short. Also, you need any gear checked, we can get you up and running again... once you fill out the work order and sign for the parts, of course."

"Um... Wh-Who are you?"

"Me? I'm Knight. Major Knight. I've been stuck here dealing with these caravans for ages now, but somebody's gotta do it."

"Not exciting enough for you?" Boone asked.

"It ain't so bad." He said with hesitation. "If Caesar's Legion decides to push west through Nipton, ol' Mojave Outpost here will be the front line."

"Can you tell me about the Outpost?" The Courier asked him.

"NCR border guard duty mostly. It's our job to make sure the caravans can move safely along I-15 _and_ Highway 95. Not the best posting or assignment, but it beats being sent east, or patrolling the Colorado. Legion's pretty thick there."

"I see. Um... Anything I can do to help around here?"

"Help?" He seemed stunned for a moment. "Oh, well... You could speak to Ranger Jackson. He might have something for you. He sort of runs things around here. Mostly ends up sending reports back west that aren't filled with the best news. Now do you need any repairs?"

"Yeah, our equipment could use some work. Mind if we leave it here for a bit?"

"Sorry, but you'll need to sign for the parts and pay up front."

Neiila stepped up to the counter. "Leave that to me! You guys go enjoy the bar and stuff. I can sign."

"If you say so. Thank you, Neiila."

The Courier stepped into the back, looking for Ranger Jackson. "Looks like we got a new visitor in the ol' brahmin pen." She whirled around to see a man in a cowboy hat and sunglasses, a distinct mutton mustache gracing his features. "Not many people coming here in a hurry. Only passing through. And if you're passing through, you picked a bad time. Road north has gone to hell, and if I let a caravan through, they won't make it."

"Ranger Jackson?"

"That's me."

"There's a lot of soldiers around..."

"Soldiers, no. Recruits, yes. And the Mojave Outpost has been ordered to have a standing force at the NCR perimeter at all times. So sending anyone out reduces the Outpost's numbers, and would be in direct violation of my orders from back west."

"Um... Is the NCR sending more troops?"

"Sending more troops, yes. To reinforce the Outpost, no. Troops head through here on their way to McCarran or to the front lines at Forlorn Hope. Or they're on leave, on their way to New Vegas to piss away their pay. All of them, passing through."

"Hm... You sound frustrated, sir."

"Frustrated? No, I have my orders. Signed and approved all the way up the chain to Kimball. And I understand the reasons. The Outpost isn't a Legion target, yet. Not like Vegas or the Dam. But if the caravans get choked here, that's going to bite NCR hard. Anyway, didn't mean to talk your ear off. Some days... Just feels like more requisition forms and daily reports come across my desk than results."

"Um... Well, I'm here to help, if I can."

"Help? No, look, I appreci- You know what, yes, I could use the help. And you look like you can handle yourself. I need to get the caravans moving again. That means clearing a path north. There's too much crawling the asphalt up the road to allow it."

The Courier smiled up at him. "I'll go take care of them, sir. Don't worry."

"Thanks, I appreciate it. Come back here when you're done. I might accidentally 'lose' some supplies to pay you with."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

After hitching up Betsy at the pack brahmin pen, the group made their way just eastward and north a bit where a whole herd of giant ants was roaming about. Between Edy's lasers, Veronica's power fist, Boone's bullets, Skynet's slugs, Neiila's energy beams, and the Courier's fists, they made quick work of them.

"Ya know... That's a really unusual rifle, Neiila." Veronica pointed out to the secret alien. "And it shoots such weird blue energy beams. Don't seem to be lasers or plasma."

The alien giggled. "Oh, this thing? I, um... Well, I come from somewhere... far to the north of here. We use different technology up there, you could say."

She reached into her cloak and tossed Veronica a clear bottle of blue gel. "What's this?" the scribe asked, turning it over in her hand. It had a slight blue glow to it.

"Epoxy. Pour that stuff on your weapons and armor and it acts as a sealant for any cracks or damage. The repairs are permanent, but it can only do so much. I've got plenty, and I can always make more, so just ask me if you need some."

The scribe decided to accept the strange girl's explanation of her rifle as she poured some of the gel on her treasured power fist.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

They reported back to Ranger Jackson, who admitted he couldn't pay them because they're not allowed to contract mercenaries at the Outpost, but he could accidentally supply them with a lost requisition form. They were given some .308 rounds, some gun maintenance kits, and two lunchboxes filled with what Ranger Jackson called 'caravan lunches'. He gladly showed Neiila how to make them, to the alien girl's glee. Despite being trained to cook only for survival in hostile terrain, she definitely had the heart of a chef, always eager for new Earth recipes.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The Courier had gone to sit at the bar while Boone and Veronica went to do some business with the merchants populating the outpost, when she spotted a woman in a cowboy hat and a double-barrel shotgun on her back, sitting at the bar with several empty whiskey bottles cluttering the counter. She took a seat on the stool next to her, and only realized she was staring when the woman turned to glare at her.

"Looking for trouble, Red?"

"Um... N-No, just l-looking around." The Courier stammered to her.

"Well, keep those eyes up and turning, or I'll set 'em spinning. Got no time for gawkers... or anyone looking for something I ain't selling."

"Um... A-Are you all right, miss?"

"All right? No, I'm not all right. Drinking to forget, and it's only getting me mad instead. Whiskey always gets my temper up, now more than ever. Drinking used to cause all sorts of trouble back west... Before I punched enough people, that is, and they learned to lay low when the whiskey hit."

"Um... Back west?"

"Yeah, if you couldn't tell, I'm not from around here, and I'm not NCR. I run a caravan... or did. Lost my caravan heading north, the driver burned to ash. And they didn't even take the cargo, they just burned that, too."

The Courier gasped. "What? Wh-Why would they do that?"

"My guess is Legion. They're _trying_ to cut NCR's supply line. And the Mojave Outpost is proof. Got us locked up tighter than a New Vegas virgin. No caravans in, out, and just _try_ arguing with Jackson about it. The roads aren't safe, he says. No shit, you washed-out old fuckup. I didn't need a Brotherhood Scribe to tell me that."

The Courier giggled. "I met Ranger Jackson. That was a good impersonation."

"Yeah, he's been with the NCR so long all he can see is the worst outcome of everything... So he doesn't _do_ anything. _Jackson_ won't let me head north. It's not safe. And even though my caravan's gone, my caravan _papers_ are keeping me here."

She smiled at the woman. "Um... You're in luck, then. I cleared the roads for Ranger Jackson!"

"No shit? Drinks on me, then. Still, not like I'm going anywhere. Caravan title's still keeping me here, even though it's dead and gone."

"Why are you at the bar, then? It seems like all you need is to join up with a different caravan..."

"Whiskey and me are old friends. Keeps me going when times get rough... Like now. Got me into the caravan business, you know. Had to start transporting water instead of liquor, though. If I hadn't switched over, I'd end my trip with nothing but glass bottles rattling on the back of my wagon."

"You have a brahmin wagon?" The Courier exclaimed.

"Yes. Just not a brahmin. After Cassidy Caravans was burned and destroyed, I only managed to salvage the wagon."

The Courier stood up on her stool. "Why don't you come with us, Miss Cassidy? You can continue Cassidy Caravans with us!"

"Us? What, there a giant rat in your pocket?"

The Courier giggled. "No, I travel with three other people and two robots. We've got our own pack brahmin and everything. If you joined us, you could leave and continue Cassidy Caravans!"

The woman sighed. "Listen, kid. That's a nice gesture, but you don't seem like someone I can do much with. Too young, too sweet, too innocent."

The Courier sat down, thinking for a moment. "How about I drink you for it?"

Cass seemed taken aback. "What? You challenging me? Seriously now."

"Yes! It'll prove I have what it takes to travel with you." The Courier turned to the bartender. "Um... Excuse me! Whiskey over here, please! On me!"

The woman sighed, shaking her head. "Alright. I'll humor you. We'll make a sport of it."

The woman handed the two each a bottle of whiskey. "Let's do this!" The Courier cheered. By now a small crowd of NCR troopers and caravaneers had gathered around to watch the two ladies drink. The bartender took the opportunity to start a betting pool.

"I've already got a head start, but I'll go first anyway." She chugged the entire bottle, making the crowd cheer.

"My turn!" The Courier chugged her bottle, wincing as the alcohol burned down her throat and a sharp pain entered her head. When she set the empty bottle on the counter, she nearly fell off her stool, causing Cass to cast a worried look over her.

"You... You all right? You took a little spill there. One moment you were smiling, then..."

"Ts ht n hr..."

"What?"

"It's hoten herrr..." To the shock of everyone in the room, the Courier tore her shirt open, her breasts bouncing free into the stuffy bar air.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Veronica and Boone had just finished with the caravan merchants when they noticed a crowd forming at the door to the barracks. Veronica ran up and tapped one of the soldiers on the back. "Hey! What's going on in there?"

"Two chicks are havin' a drinking contest!" the soldier explained. "One just started takin' her clothes off!"

Veronica and Boone looked to each other, their eyes widening. "Shit."

"What's goin' on?" Neiila walked up to them.

"The Courier is drinking!" Veronica exclaimed.

"Why? Is that a bad thing?"

"Not if you don't mind people streaking." Boone sighed.

The three pushed their way in to try and get the Courier under control. They entered to find her dancing on the bar counter, completely naked. Boone assumed the woman with all the whiskey bottles around her was the Courier's opponent. He ran up and turned her around.

"You! This is your fault!"

"Now hold on!" the woman defended. "_Red's_ the one who challenged _me_ to a drinking contest. Take it easy, NCR-boy."

"What? Why would she do that?" Veronica asked her.

"Wanted me to travel with you guys. Long story, I guess. And you'd better get your little ginger friend under control before I explain it. Can't have her showin' her pussy and huge, pale, tits to the entire wasteland, can we?"

Cass didn't see her as the toughest Courier in the wastes, but she had to admit, this ginger had guts. The group left the Mojave Outpost the next day with a merchant and a wagon added to their caravan. Cass only insisted that, when the time was convenient for them, they visit the site of her old caravan's wreckage.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Author's Notes

**1.** Mirelurks were crab-like creatures in Fallout 3. A food called Mirelurk Cakes was made from their meat, which were essentially crab cakes. So yes, mirelurks are back in this fanfic. Lakelurks were originally Mirelurk Kings, which they are once again.

**2.** Alien Epoxy is an item from Fallout 3's DLC Mothership Zeta. It's used as a consumable Aid item to repair the equipped weapon. Essentially, it was the precursor to the Weapon Repair Kits of New Vegas.

**3.** The Double-Barrel Shotgun is from Fallout 3's Point Lookout DLC. I have the Fallout 3 Weapons Restoration mod that inserts Fallout 3 weapons into New Vegas.


	7. Chapter 6: Dances with Deathclaws

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Fallout. Fallout belongs to Bethesda, who purchased the rights from Black Isle.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Fallout:** New Vegas

Unknown Origins

By _Cyberweasel89_

**Chapter 6:** Dances with Deathclaws

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The hangover was excruciating. The Courier's new merchant seemed fine, though. She walked alongside Bess easily, while the Courier was content to ride in the back of the wagon and sleep it off. It was two days later, when they stopped by a highway patrol station just north of the Outpost to camp for the night, that the Courier was well enough to get to know their new merchant around the campfire.

"So, Miss Cassidy... How'd you get into the caravan business?"

"Just Cass. And I didn't really start. Just took to it like a fish to water."

"Really? You didn't start?"

"Actually... It sort of fell on me. My feet get antsy if I stay in one place, like the Mojave Outpost. Was driving me crazy, that feeling of being trapped there, so... Thanks for that."

"You're welcome. But... Does that mean you've traveled a lot?"

"Yeah. West, east. And passed through places enough times people would sometimes pay me some caps to take something to the next town."

"What, like a courier?"

"Well, not as glamorous, I guess. Roads back west were safer in most places. Most. Anyway, it occurred to me I could scratch the traveling itch, and get paid for it. Cassidy Caravans formed around me. Rest is history."

"So how's caravan life in the Mojave been so far?"

"Well, I'm not one for soft living. Or soft men, let me tell you. I'm guessing you like it soft, though."

"Um... I'm not sure I understand..."

"I've fucked a soldier in my time." The Courier blushed. "They don't need to be fucked by their orders. Let them drink too much and they get whiskey dicks, too. As for me... Let's just say sometimes I get so drunk, I don't care who I share a bed with. But my earlier point was, you know the Mojave. The caravan fighting here... It's been downright brutal. The amount of caravan space you reserve for ammo alone... And if it's not raiders, Powder Gangers, it's NCR tolls. They need to get the money from somewhere, even if it's Vegas-bound."

"Do you deal mostly with the NCR, Cass?"

"Anyone wise does. Vegas families pay on time... from what I've heard. Even the Omertas. The White Gloves pay on time, but they're... creepy. Deal with anyone else, though, you're taking a _big_ risk."

"What about Caesar's Legion?" Boone stiffened at the mention.

"The Legion? What about them? I don't trade caps or supply anyone who keeps slaves, and treats women like brahmin in those... 'camps' of theirs." Boone relaxed.

"Do they deal with any caravans at all?"

"There's some caravans that deal with the Legion, yes. And as much as it pains me to say it, any caravan marked by the Legion, is safe as houses. They guard their roads, their supply lines. Even Fiends would hesitate before going after any trader dealing with the Legion."

"Hm... You sound frustrated..."

"I am. If the NCR took the same stand and committed patrols to the roads... then I think that'd solve a lot of their problems right there. But they don't. Caravans get butchered in the Mojave all the time, like mine. And so fucking close to Vegas, you could see it from the wall."

"Um... there must be good parts to the Republic... right?"

"The NCR tries. It's just that _trying_ doesn't mean a whole lot when you're paying your respects to the dead. And the Legion, from what I've heard, they don't do the 'stop tolls' on the roads or in the outposts like some NCR quartermasters do. You're lucky if you turn a profit sometimes if some new officer gets assigned a route, the fees just get worse."

"Sounds bad... Um, are there any other differences between the NCR and the Legion?"

"Much as I hate the Legion, caravan life would be a hell of a lot easier if they ran the roads. Well, as long as those companies were run by men. And that's the biggest issue I see. And it's a shame, but I think there's people on the NCR side who feel more strongly than I do."

"What do you mean, Cass?"

"Some caravans deal with the Legion now because of security. If towns could get the same protection? A lot more tempting than you'd think. A bunch of people would be willing to side with the Legion to not have to worry about Fiends, Vipers, Jackals, and Powder Ganger attacks. It's not hard for some folks to sell freedom... when the alternative is worse. Especially when being with the NCR is going to get you on a Legion cross."

Wow, this topic sure is depressing. Think of something else, Kaya! "Um... Is whiskey your drink of choice?"

"Not sure if I chose it or it chose me. Dad ran a bar a long time ago, and it was a labor of love, Mom said. Didn't sound like it made her happy. Still, I guess I got some of Dad's love of whiskey in me, because the burn suits me fine. Used to call me Whiskey Rose back west... before I punched enough people, so now they say it, but quiet, and when I'm not around."

"Um... Whiskey Rose?"

"Yeah, on account of my name... and the blossoms on my cheeks when I drink too much. Won most of those fights, too. Can take a hell of a punch and give it right back when I've got a bottle in me."

"Where do you usually go to drink?"

"There's usually a bar in every stop along the road. Helps me sleep. Well, not really, but I tell myself that. Sometimes I have to brew it myself if I'm too far from a bar. Not quality, but I'm for anything that takes the edge off the day."

"Wait, you can make moonshine?" Neiila spoke up from where she hovered over the campfire.

"Yeah. What else you gonna do with an empty bottle? Wait for it to refill itself? Get me some ingredients out of the Mojave, an empty bottle, a little time, and I'll keep us stocked."

"What're the ingredients?" The alien asked excitedly.

"For two servings? A cob of maize, two mutfruits, a bag of yeast, and a fission battery."

"Awesome! I'll be sure to get some so you can make a batch. I wanna try some!" Neiila cheered.

"Wait... A fission battery?" Veronica spoke up.

"A bit of battery acid is the secret ingredient. Don't worry, it's perfectly safe, or I wouldn't be alive right now. It helps to go easy on it until you train yourself to choke back the urge to gag. After a few bottles and the vomiting, it ain't so bad."

The Courier felt her stomach sour. "Hey, where'd you get that pendant?" Veronica asked.

"Gift from my Dad, along with my double barrel and name. Rose of Sharon Cassidy."

"Um... You're name's not Cass Cassidy?"

"Nope. Cass is just a nickname. Mom said Dad got the name out of some Old World book about dirt pilgrims. Name sure sounds sweet, though. Anyway, pendant's a little rose. Originally thought it was one of Mom's tribal necklaces, but no, came from Dad."

"Your mother was a tribal?" Boone spoke up for the first time since leaving the Mojave Outpost.

"Yes. Got a problem with that? Mom was from east of the Colorado, not sure which tribe. Was before the time Caesar rounded them up, made them Legion. She walked a hell of a way before she crossed paths with my Dad and he convinced her to stop walking. And lucky for me, he was a horny old bastard."

The Courier cringed. "Can you tell me more about your Dad?" She asked.

"Not much to tell. He ended up walking east one day when I was young and never came back. Not a family deserter like some, though. Mom died waiting for him, and she had me to raise. She was sick, but she held off dying until I was old enough to be getting into trouble with the boys. As for Dad... I figure he just got himself lost or dead. Happens... And I'm not all boo-hoo about it, so save your glass for someone who's crying."

"Any idea why he went east?"

"Not a clue. When he left, I was too in my crib to understand why, and around the time Mom passed, I was too into my teens to listen. Got his name, got this pendant, got his shotgun, and that's about it."

"Any good in a fight?" Boone asked. He leaned back where he sat and popped some sprigs of tobacco in his mouth.

"Don't chew that, Boone. The squirrel stew is almost ready. It'll ruin the taste." Neiila scolded, stirring the pot of stew with a ladle. Boone didn't seem to listen or care.

"I'm best with a shotgun. Got this one from my dad. Double barrel, modified with custom parts and a special choke. Called it his 'fishing aid'. I usually just call it Pa's Fishing Aid. Prefer to settle things with my fists, though. Made more friends than corpses in bar fights. Plan on keepin' it that way. Don't think I'm some Vault City pacifist, though. If things get heated, I'll start shooting, trust me."

"Where did you learn to shoot?" Boone continued.

"Short of caps is what taught me, mostly. Ammo's expensive... so I learned to make every shot count. Luckily, with a shotgun, you don't need to aim very much. But hear tell Dad was a crack shot, so I don't want to dirty the family name. Not out of pride. Respect."

"Any other weapons you know how to use?" The sniper continued.

"What, you mean like spears? No, none of that. Mom was a tribal, but she didn't teach me anything like that. Any event, I prefer shooting if it comes down to an argument. Don't worry, I'll carry my weight if a disagreement arises."

"Stew is ready! Come get a bowl!"

Despite Neiila's instructions, she went ahead and poured bowls for everyone anyway. The Courier found it a bit too hot, so she blew on it a little before she started on it.

Cass swallowed her spoonful before speaking up. "Why the hell are we wandering so much, anyway? Nothing against the Mojave, except the dust, heat, and scorpions, but..."

"Um... We're looking for a man who shot me." the Courier explained.

"A man who shot you." It didn't sound like a question.

"Twice, in the head." She pulled her bangs aside to show Cass the scar on her forehead.

"And... you got better."

"Um... Well, yeah. A doctor helped patch me up."

"Two shots in the head without an Auto-Doc... is a lot of patching. Hope you thanked him properly. Who's this snake that put bullets in your head? Did he have cause, or...?"

"Um... He wanted something I was carrying."

"So he robbed you? Huh. Robbing a courier's _low_, and any family or group he's with is going to get a black eye for it. Caravan code of the wastes is you don't fuck with the one who brings you your mail, and you don't fuck with your supply line."

"Um... You mean...?"

"Yeah. Hope this shithead knows what he's in for. From both of us... What's his name?"

The Courier smiled up at the water merchant. "Thanks Cass. Um... From what I've found out, his name is Benny. He wears a checkered suit."

"Can't say I've heard the name... Or heard about any man dressed like a seat cover. Still... Suit means money, and suits stand out, especially here in the Mojave. One of the larger towns, or Vegas, might be the place to go. Don't you worry, though. We'll sort this asshole out. Rattle his cage a little."

The Courier giggled. "Thanks, Cass. That means a lot to me."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

It seemed the Vikki and Vance Casino has successfully reopened, with 'Layla' and her men making excellent bouncers. The Bison Steve Hotel restoration was complete, and Primm was as bustling as it had been in a year, with people coming from all over to check out the reborn town. Meyers was doing an excellent job as sheriff, and claimed Beagle was a fine deputy. The deputy was currently courting Enid, and shared with the Courier that he planned to propose to her the next coming Christmas. Happy for the town's success, the Courier and her group pressed north, on their way to Sloan.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Admit it. You're lost." Veronica pressured.

"I am not!" the Courier defended.

"Does she always get lost like this?" Cass mumbled to Boone.

"Not usually, but it happened once before." the sniper responded.

"Maybe we can ask that super mutant for directions." Neiila pointed to him.

They seemed to be at the foot of a mountain. A super mutant was standing by a shack near the beginning of the road up. The Courier approached, waving to him.

"This is a dangerous place, human. Especially for your kind. I suggest you turn back. There's nothing good waiting for you further on."

"Huh? Um... what makes this such a dangerous place, sir?"

"You must've heard her radio broadcasts. Though why a human would follow her invitation here is beyond me... Unless you didn't listen very closely."

"Wait... Is this Black Mountain?" the Courier asked excitedly. "I listen to Black Mountain Radio sometimes when we're traveling! The witty banter between the hosts is so funny!"

Boone, Cass, and Veronica groaned. The Courier and Neiila were the only ones who liked that radio station, but since the Courier was _wearing_ the only radio, it was her choice what they listened to on the road.

"The voice on the radio belongs to Tabitha, the 'Supreme Commander' of Black Mountain. Or as she calls it, the 'State of Utobitha'. She took control of this place almost two years ago. The super mutants here do whatever she says. And she says humans are to be killed on sight."

"Really? And here I thought Tabitha and Rhonda were just actors doing a comedy bit... How did she end up in control here?"

"For years, Black Mountain was a peaceful community. It's leader, Marcus, broadcast an invitation to mutants throughout the wasteland. That's how I found Black Mountain. So did others, most of them second-generation mutants. Marcus welcomed everyone... that was his mistake. The community ended up being mostly second-gen. Not very bright, but easy to influence. Fine, until the nightkin came along, led by Tabitha. In a week she had most of the second-gens thinking she was some kind of prophet. And that she should be broadcasting her 'truth', not Marcus. Marcus saw what was coming and decided to leave before things got out of hand. He smashed the radio and left to found Jacobstown."

"Um... You say Marcus smashed the radio? But... the broadcast is still going, isn't it?"

"Heh. There's a sad story behind that. Marcus smashed it just fine, but while we were gone some ghoul named Raul came along. Tabitha turned him into her personal mechanic. A slave, really. See, if I'd been standing down here, I could've warned him before it was too late."

"Is that why you're here instead of Jacobstown? To make sure no one else heads up there?"

"Yeah. Marcus sent me here a couple of months ago. I've saved a dozen mutants from heading up the mountain, and I've been managing to spy on Tabitha. It's not much, but it's something."

"Hm... Sounds like you've had enough of Tabitha." Her mouth rose into a smile. "What if you had some help?"

"Help would improve the odds. Help might just make the difference. Alright, if you're good enough at what you do, meet me in the village at the peak. We can talk there. I'll have a plan by the time I see you. If I see you. Good luck. It's going to be a lot harder for you to get up there than it will be for me. I'm Neil, by the way."

"I'm the Courier. That's Boone, Cass, Veronica, Neiila, Skynet, Edy, and Bess."

"Pack brahmin? You should probably leave her here."

"Good idea. Thanks, Neil."

The super mutant left to head up the mountain. The Courier decided to take this time to prepare.

"Kid... You sure you wanna do this?" Boone asked, cleaning his sniper rifle.

The Courier was wrapping some fresh boxing tape around her hands. "Yes. Tabitha has killed enough people already, and Neil deserves some peace of mind. Besides, we have to save this Raul. I've heard him on the radio, but I didn't know he was actually being held prisoner. We have to get him out before Tabitha finally decides to kill him like she keeps threatening!"

"Are you sure? Raul's a ghoul, after all." Veronica pointed out. The Courier turned to glare at her. "What?"

"And what's wrong with Raul being a ghoul? Don't tell me you hate ghouls..."

"Well... I don't _hate_ ghouls. I just don't like them."

"Shit..." Boone muttered. "Kid, it's not Veronica's fault. That's how they raise them in the Brotherhood. Not like back in the NCR. Ghouls may be second-class citizens in treatment, but the government is working hard to stamp out bigotry. Hell, even some super mutants have been given citizenship if they proved stable enough."

Veronica sighed. "I guess the Brotherhood really is behind the times..."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

On the way up, they met three crazed super mutants, who were quickly dispatched. The nightkin that ambushed them, though, was a surprise. Only Edy noticed it ahead of time and shot it just as it began to appear. They passed a slope that looked like a short cut, save for the dead NCR soldier at the foot of it. But bear traps covered the path, and a boulder soon rolled down when they tried to climb it. They continued on, the Courier noticing a wire fence and gate blocking off part of the mountain. She ran over, finding it unlocked, and stepped in to find a radioactive crater, with men in power armor sprawled out, dead. Two centaurs ambushed them, but they made quick work of them.

"Must have been one of our patrols." Veronica pointed out. "See if you can find anything on them. Don't worry, I won't tell."

The Courier found a holotape on one of them, which appeared to be a mission statement, one of three. The paladins here were tasked with looking for components in the communications array atop Black Mountain. The super mutants must have killed them and unceremoniously dumped them in the crater. The Courier figured she'd have Veronica hold onto the holotape, just in case the elder wanted it.

They continued their way up, battling four more crazed super mutants.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"A pleasant surprise to see you made it." Neil greeted them. "I'm ready to get started if you are."

The Courier nodded, a determined look on her face. "Let's do it."

"Here's the plan. The gate to Tabitha's compound is guarded by several nightkin, all of them using devices that make them invisible. I'm going to draw them away from the gate by telling them I spotted an intruder in the village. Then you slip in."

"Good plan! We'll be hiding here then, Neil. Thanks!"

"Good luck. We're going to need it."

The group stuck against the wall, waiting. Eventually, invisible shimmering figures came running by like some kind of stampede. When they had passed, the group made their way up the mountain. Edy beeped when they reached Tabitha's compound, and that's when the Courier noticed a shimmering invisible figure up on the nearby radio tower. She gestured to Boone, who easily brought it down with a single headshot. Good thing too, because it would've shot them with some kind of modified missile launcher.

They entered the middle building, finding a storage room. But what caught the Courier's eye was a broken Mr. Handy on the desk in the corner. She walked over, examining it. The robot lay inert on the table, giving no indication of having worked recently, or ever. A nameplate on part of its chassis was scratched and mostly faded, but appeared to read 'Rhonda' in faint engravings.

"Skynet, what can you make of this Mr. Handy?" she asked the Robobrain.

"Scanning... The Mr. Handy's current AI state set to hibernate, likely self-defense mechanism after unit sustained catastrophic damage. Mr. Handy was repaired, but whoever repaired did not know how to reset Mr. Handy's AI. Shall Skynet flip appropriate switch?"

"Yes, please!" The Courier urged.

The Robobrain's manipulator reached out and flipped a switch in the Mr. Handy's control panel. The robot jumped to life.

"Hello. Could you please direct me to mistress Tabitha?" the robot asked.

The Courier was taken aback at first by the robot's directness. "Um... S-Sure, follow me."

"Thank you very much! My internal clock says it's been six years, fifty-two days, forty minutes, and thirteen seconds since I last spoke to her. I hope she hasn't gotten lonely."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

They exited the storage building to find a nightkin with heart-shaped glasses and a blonde wig with a bow. She turned around, her eyes widening at the sight of the Mr. Handy.

"R-Rhonda? Is that you?"

The robot hovered up to her. "It is, Mistress Tabitha. How I've missed you so. This stranger here fixed me up right as rain. Is she a friend of yours?"

Tabitha walked up to the Courier, wrapping her in a tight hug. Very tight. She was actually having trouble breathing and nearly fainted before the nightkin set her down.

"I... don't know how to thank you for bringing Rhonda back to me, stranger." she said to the Courier. Her voice, though masculine like most nightkin, sounded heavy with emotion. "Here, take this. I won't be needing it anymore." She reached into her pocket and handed the Courier a key labeled 'Equipment'.

"Um... You're welcome." The Courier managed to say. She found this all a little weird...

"It's been so long since I lost Rhonda... It's just... such a shock to see her up and about again. I... I'm not sure what to do now."

"Mistress Tabitha, we should be heading off." The Mr. Handy pointed out, hovering off down the mountain path. "Our journey has been much delayed, but we can catch up if we hurry. Come along, now."

"Yes, Rhonda." Tabitha followed after her.

They entered the building closest to the mountain path to find a room with a workbench, tool box, a toy car on a table, and two computers. The one nearest to the door had log entries by what the Courier figured was Raul, the toy car apparently belonging to one of the super mutants, and contained the password for the other computer that locked his room. They unlocked it and stepped in to find a ghoul in a green repair jumpsuit, a green head wrap over his head and reading glasses on what was left of his nose as he read a copy of Dean's Electronics by a lamp. He turned to look at them as they entered. "I've got my eye on you, even if it doesn't see so-... Oh, wait a minute. You're not one of the super mutants."

"Um... Raul?"

"That's me. Raul Alfonso Tejada. I'm the mechanic around here."

"Um... We're here to rescue you." The Courier told him. She tried to ignore the disgusted look on Veronica's face.

"Took you long enough. So can I go now?"

"Um... what do you mean, took us long enough?"

"I assumed you came because of my call for help on the radio."

"Well... We kinda did."

"Oh. Then can I go now?"

She smiled at him. "Of course! Enjoy your freedom."

"Alrighty then. I'll just head out. Alone. By myself. Into the dangerous wastes."

"Um... I'm sorry?"

The ghoul sighed. "Look. You freed me. The least I can do is help you out. I hate asking, but how about I come along to... well, wherever it is you're going."

"Um... Of course! We'd be happy to have you along!"

"WHAT?" Veronica yelped, but a glare from the Courier silenced her.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

They said goodbye to Neil, who told them he'd continue watching Black Mountain in case any other mutants were on their way right then, but gave them his super sledge to remember him by. The Courier gave the high-tech sledgehammer to Skynet. The friendly super mutant let them camp out in his shack, though Raul was eager to get as far away from Black Mountain as he could. As they sat around the campfire, enjoying a meal of gecko kabobs, the Courier decided to get to know their newest companion.

"So... Miguel?"

"You take a blow to the head or something, Boss? The name's Raul Alfonso Tejada."

"Um... Then why does your name tag say Miguel?"

"Probably because it used to be Miguel's."

"Oh. So, um... Where are you from?"

"I was born just outside Mexico City. My family had a little ranch there."

Hm. That was pretty brief. He probably didn't want to talk about it... yet. "Um... How did you end up at Black Mountain?"

"Well, Boss, when a giant, insanesuper mutant asks you to stay put, you do what you're told. Well... maybe _you_ don't... but I'm just a broke down old man."

"How did Tabitha find you in the first place?"

"Ah, it's stupid, Boss. I used to listen to the radio broadcasts, just to pass the time. Well, one day the signal stops, so I figured I'd try to find the transmitter. I'm a pretty good repairman, or I was before the eyes started to go. Anyway, I found Black Mountain and offered my services, but Tabitha decided I was useful enough to keep around. Permanently."

"I'm glad we could save you, then."

"Yeah, me too. Thanks, Boss."

"Um... I'm the Courier. You don't have to call me boss."

"Sure thing, Boss."

She sighed. If calling her boss made him happy, who was she to tell him to stop? "It says Petro-Chico on your jumpsuit." Neiila pointed out. "What's that?"

"You never heard of Petro-Chico, un Amigo de Poseidon Energy? Ah, of course not. They were an oil company in Mexico, back before the War."

"How old are you?" Cass asked. The Courier was about to scold her before Raul answered himself.

"Old enough to know better, cowgirl. Old enough to know better." The Courier giggled.

"What use are you?" Boone asked. This time the Courier didn't hesitate to scold him.

"Boone! Be nice!"

"I'm not much use besides being a portable encyclopedia, really." the ghoul answered. "I guess you could use me as a pack brahmin, but my knees aren't so good anymore."

"I don't believe that." the Courier told him. "You must have plenty of skills."

"That's nice of you to say, Boss, but I'm an old man. Not much use to anybody any more. Time was, I was a pretty good shot with dual pistols. I guess I'm still half-decent. These old bones aren't much use in hand-to-hand fighting, though. I can also do maintenance work on your stuff. I've got my tool kit, so just ask and I can fix your gear, make it work longer. And save any scrap metal you find. That stuff is like gold."

"Wait..." Veronica spoke up. It was the first time since leaving Black Mountain that she spoke... and the first time that night that she didn't look like she smelled something bad. "You can repair our weapons? Even my power fist?"

"Especially your power fist."

"See? That's amazing, Raul! Besides, there's lots of older people who are still useful to their friends and communities."

"Yeah? Maybe you can introduce them to me, if we find any. Because I've never met one."

"Okay, I have to say something." Boone spoke up. He stood up, dusting off his pants and went to stand over the ghoul. "Ranger Andy. Former NCR ranger back in Novac, where I lived. Broke his leg in a bombing. Retired to Novac. Two snipers watched the roads. I was one of them. Andy patrolled the town. He was a master of hand-to-hand combat, and even taught me a bit of what he knows. Ever heard of the Ranger Takedown? Move the NCR rangers use to knock opponents clean off their feet. Stand up."

Groaning, Raul got to his feet. Boone dropped to his hands, swinging both legs under the ghoul's feet, knocking him clean onto his back. Cass ran over and helped Raul up, but the Courier just stared at Boone, awestruck.

"Boone! That was amazing! I can knock people to their knees with one leg, but I can't do that! Can you teach me?"

"Um... Yeah, sure Kid. But the point is, Andy's old and retired, but he still contributes to his community. With both his body and the wisdom that only comes with old age. So don't you say old people are useless. Old Geezer Andy taught me everything I know about hand-to-hand combat." The sniper spoke as if Raul had insulted Ranger Andy, and even went into their tent, like he didn't want to speak to Raul anymore.

The ghoul sat up, sighing. "Hey, Boss... can I ask you something?"

"The Courier walked up to sit next to him. "Of course. Anything."

He didn't look up to meet her gaze. "What do you think of guys like Ranger Andy?"

The Courier smiled. "I met him. He's a hero of the NCR."

"That wasn't what I meant, really." the ghoul answered. The Courier's smile fell. "I mean guys who have a world of experience doing what they do, and continue doing it despite getting too slow or too injured.

The Courier's face turned serious. "Even after a crippling injury, a guy like Ranger Andy is tougher and more dangerous than men half his age."

"Maybe... Yeah. I guess you've got a point there."

"We're not just talking about Ranger Andy, are we, Raul?"

"Not really, Boss, no. I grew up in a place called Hidalgo Ranch, just outside Mexico City. It wasn't much, just a bit of a farm with a house built for three generations of Tejadas. I wasn't the best-behaved kid. I was quick with my hands, with pistols or a wrench, and I wasn't afraid to get into fights over it. I never killed anybody, but I had my share of run-ins with the police. Mostly my family kept me in line. This was before the War. We were far enough away from Mexico City when the bombs fell that we missed the worst of it... But things got bad quick." Cass, Veronica, and Neiila all gathered closer to Raul as he spoke.

"Just a few days after Mexico City was vaporized, refugees started pouring down the road to our ranch. We helped who we could, but... there were so many. Eventually my father started turning people away before we ran out of food. Things got violent. My father and I got our guns, and we drove them off." Even Boone had pushed one of the flaps of the tent open so he could better hear, while Bess was grazing closer.

"About two dozen men came back in the night after we'd gone to sleep. They set fire to the ranch house and barred the doors from the outside. My whole family was trapped inside. I smelled the smoke, and got myself, and my little sister, Rafaela, out through a window... but everyone else... My parents, my grandmother, my two brothers, and two of my sisters all died." Even Skynet started drawing closer on his treads, while Edy hovered just a little closer.

"Rafaela and I ran. We were pursued by some of the men who attacked our home, but I was always a good shot. The ones who came after us, I killed. The rest, I left be. I had to take care of Rafaela, not throw my life away on revenge."

The Courier placed her hand on Raul's arm. "You can't think it was your fault..." she soothed. "No one could stand against a dozen armed men alone."

"I know that, Boss. That's not what I'm getting' at. I'm just gettin' sentimental in my old age. Anyways, forget it. Just wanted that off my chest."

The ghoul retired to bed, choosing to lay out his bedroll and sleep outside of the tent for the night. Veronica, surprisingly, slept outside with him. It seemed his story had finally let her see him as a person. The Courier, Cass, and Neiila slept outside as well, leaving Boone alone in the tent... until he came out to join them as well. That morning, Boone and Veronica apologized to the ghoul, the sniper agreeing to teach the Courier the Ranger Takedown move, and they made their way north to Sloan.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

They knew they were upon Sloan when they spotted a cluster of about twelve wooden shacks by the side of the road. In the middle of the road itself was a table and wall of sandbags, which five miners were congregated around.

"Hold up!" An older man in overalls, a construction helmet, and a sledgehammer on his back held up his hand as they neared the table. "There are deathclaws all over the damn place north of here. I'd turn back if I were you. If you wanna get to New Vegas, you're better off headin' east from Primm, and then loopin' north. It's a heck of a lot safer."

"Um... Wh-Who are you?" the Courier stammered.

"Chomps Lewis. Head miner of Quarry Junction and unofficial mayor of Sloan."

"This is Sloan?"

"Yep, this is Sloan, the town for us quarry workers. The actual quarry, Quarry Junction, is up the road north of here. The whole thing is an NCR operation. We make cement for the NCR using the limestone we dig out with dynamite and draglines. Dirty work, but the pay's good. Wish we got paid in caps, though. Not a lot of merchants like taking NCR paper money."

"You don't get paid in caps?"

"Nope. The NCR's been tryin' to switch over to usin' paper money, just like in the Pre-War days. Trouble is the exchange rates ain't exactly fair. For example, a hundred bucks in NCR money is valued at roughly half that in caps around here. Seems like a rotten deal for us, but work is work."

"What's a dragline?" Neiila asked.

"It's a big machine which moves rocks around, piles at a time. It's Pre-War tech, so you need to thump it once in a while to keep it running."

"The cement goes to Boulder City, right?"

"And Hoover Dam, yeah. Shipped by rail. The NCR's probably building fortifications with it all."

"So, back to the deathclaws, where'd they come from, Mr. Lewis, sir?"

"They moved into the quarry after the Powder Gangers came through and made off with most of our dynamite. We shut the quarry down while we waited for the NCR to get us some more blasting sticks, but now the deathclaws have shown up. The NCR's a no-show. And my men and I have got nothin' to do but sit on our asses all day. It's damn frustrating."

"Have you had problems with deathclaws before, Mr. Lewis, sir?"

"Ugh. We'd seen them occasionally, but they didn't seem too keen on getting too close to the quarry. Not sure if it was the noise or all the workers. I can't believe that an entire pack moved into the quarry. I thought that kind of bad luck only happened in New Vegas."

The Courier smiled up at him. "Um... We could take care of your deathclaw problem, Mr. Lewis, sir."

Most of her companions groaned. They knew she planned to do this, but it was another matter to hear her actually offer it to the guy. Raul was about to ask what in the world was wrong with her before a hand on his shoulder and a shake of the head from Boone told him not to complain.

Chomps Lewis looked the group up and down. "I don't know what it is about all of you, but I think you could actually pull it off. Deathclaws are tough bastards, but all of you, working together?... You might just be even tougher. To do the job right, you've got to get rid of the pack leaders. The deathclaw matriarch and the deathclaw alpha male. Should run the rest of 'em off. Just don't expect a rescue if you get in trouble. Go see Jas first. She can make you all a meal and give you some spare medical supplies. I'd recommend takin' Rocket with you."

"Rockets? Um... None of us have a launcher, so-"

"No, Rocket. She's probably the only one in town with any fightin' experience. You'll know her when you see her. Sticks out like a sore thumb around here."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The miners ambling about town directed them to a shack set up as a diner, where a young woman was manning the counter. They took a seat at some of the tables, and the young woman came up with a notepad and pencil.

"Hi, I'm Jas Wilkins. What can I get you?"

"Salisbury steak." Boone ordered.

"Pork N' Beans." Veronica requested.

"Just get me a Gecko steak." Cass asked.

"Some iguana bits and a crunchy mutfruit, please." was Raul's choice.

"Squirrel on a stick, please." Neiila ordered.

"Um... May I have some mac and cheese, please?"

"Got it. Ready in a jiffy." She turned away, but turned right back around to face the Courier. "Let me ask you a question... What's the tastiest thing you've ever eaten?"

The Courier smiled. "Cheezy Poofs, bubblegum, and Nuka-Cola."

"Fancy Lads Snack Cakes." Veronica added. The rest just shrugged.

"Why do you ask, Ms. Wikins?" asked the Courier.

"Well, I've got this recipe for a deathclaw egg omelet that I've been itching to try out. Trouble is, I need a deathclaw egg. Kinda obvious, I suppose."

"Really? An omelet with deathclaw eggs? Aren't they usually made with wasteland penguin eggs?"

"Yes, but my great aunt Rose ran a bed and breakfast back in California, in a town called Modoc. She's the one who first created the recipe to use a deathclaw egg, and she wound up with a bigger, healthier, tastier omelet. I don't know how she managed to get a hold of a female deathclaw, but she kept it in a shed. Aunt Rose had a steady supply of eggs for her omelets. At least, she did until some stranger came along and killed the deathclaw. Shot it right in the eye."

"So if we bring you a deathclaw egg, we can try this omelet?"

"You bet!"

"We're about to head into the quarry, then. We'll bring back as many eggs as we can find. I promise."

"Great! That sounds a little suicidal, but whatever floats your boat, huh? I can even teach you the recipe, if you'd like." The woman left to prepare the meals.

"Hey."

The Courier heard a little girl's voice, and looked to see a little girl sitting at a table nearby, drinking a glass of brahmin milk. She hadn't noticed her before, she was in a shadowed corner. But what intrigued her was that she was dressed in what looked like a Vault jumpsuit, but with a dark jacket over it with various medals pinned to it. She even had a Pip-Boy on her wrist. There was a welding mask over her face, so the Courier couldn't see it, but her hair was black with a ribbon on either side of her head. But oddest of all... she had a flamer sitting on the floor behind her table.

"Um... Hey. May we help you?"

"Heard you're headin' into the quarry. What for?" the little girl asked.

"We're going to get rid of the deathclaws." The Courier explained.

"Really? Shit, that sounds awesome. I'm in!"

"You're... in?"

"Yeah! I'm gettin' cabin fever in here. I need me some action!"

The Courier sighed. "Listen... I'd appreciate it, but we can't go around endangering kids. Even if you _do_ have a huge flamer..." Her eyes widened when the girl held out the flap of her jacket. "And explosives lining your coat...?"

The girl lifted her welding mask revealing... to the Courier's shock, she was a ghoul.

"Holy shit. A ghoul child." Boone gawked.

"I thought ghouls couldn't have children..." Veronica wondered.

"Obviously, I'm just a kid who was ghoulified. And believe me, I can handle myself in a fight."

"But... What are you doing here?"

"Left home. Got a job as one of the miners. Didn't wanna hire a kid, but they changed their minds when they saw how skilled I was with dynamite. But I'm bored with no work to do. I need some action."

"Um... I'm really uncomfortable about this, but you're probably older than you look, so... I guess we could use all the help we can get."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

On the way out, Raul was eyeing the generator near the front of town. "Something wrong, Raul?" the Courier asked.

"That generator is broken. I can probably fix it."

"Great! Let me know if I can help."

"Nah. Should only take me a moment."

The Courier left Raul to the generator, but she noticed a mole rat ambling about nearby. She was surprised and raised her fists for a moment... but it only limped over to her. She held out her hand so it could sniff her scent, which it did, then raised up on its hind legs to lick her cheek.

"Oh my goodness! A tamed mole rat!" She stroked the creature on the head. She had to admit, they were kinda cute when they weren't trying to kill her. The little guy's collar read 'Snuffles', likely from the snuffling noise he frequently made, but... he was limping. She took a look, and it seemed his leg was injured. The Courier ran over to Bess and grabbed the first aid kit, as well as a copy of Today's Physician. With some disinfectant and some bandages, she managed to bind the mole rat's leg. Raul walked up then and announced he had fixed the generator. The Courier ran to Chomps Lewis to tell him the news.

"Um, Mr. Lewis, sir?"

"Need somethin'?"

"Um... Yeah. Raul, um... the man in the repairman jumpsuit with me, he fixed your generator."

The miner smiled. "It's nice to see things goin' the way they're supposed to for a change. I'm going to pay you out of my own pocket for this one." He reached into his pocket and handed her two one hundred dollar NCR bills.

"But... Mr. Lewis! I can't accept this!" the Courier exclaimed.

"No, I insist. Take it."

Sighing, she slipped it into her bottlecap satchel. "Um... I also fixed Snuffles' leg... And I insist that this one is a freebie."

"Heh. If you say so. I noticed Snuffles limpin', but I didn't realize the problem was that serious. Thanks. That beast helps keep spirits up around here."

"How did you tame a mole rat, by the way? I thought they were untamable..."

"Funny story, actually. We was out and about one day when this mole rat attacks us outta nowhere. We kill it, only to find out it was a mother with a baby nearby. This baby mole rat hadn't even opened his eyes yet. We felt sorry for the little guy, so we took him in. Fed him brahmin milk, stimulated him to pee. He was so young when we found him, he has no idea he's supposed to attack us. But we actually domesticated a mole rat."

The Courier smiled. "That's amazing. Mr. Lewis."

"Thanks. Ya know, Snuffles makes me wonder if geckos are cute when they're not tryin' to attack you."

The Courier giggled.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

They saw their first deathclaw when they neared the entrance to the quarry. It was a young one, but still withstood several shots from Edy's lasers before the combined fire of Boone, Cass, Neiila, Skynet, and Raul took it down. When they entered the quarry, they took down eight more deathclaws, but no sign of anything that looked like the alpha male or the matriarch. They took a moment to catch their breath.

"So... Rocket, right?"

"Yeah... Need something?" the ghoul child responded.

"Yeah." Veronica replied. "Were you from a vault? That looks like a vaultsuit underneath that jacket, and there's a Pip-Boy on your wrist."

"Nah, I didn't grow up in a vault. I'm one of the Boomers."

Every stared in awe, stunned for a while. It was finally the Courier who broke the silence with "What are Boomers?"

"What?" replied Cass. "You've never heard of the Boomers?"

"Um... Well, when the man in the checkered coat shot me in the head, I lost my memories... I didn't even know about the NCR or Caesar's Legion until they were explained to me."

"The Boomers..." began Veronica. "Are a group of people who took over an air force base and blow up anyone who tries to approach. They're kind of xenophobic. Which is why it's weird that one would leave." She eyed Rocket. "How were you even ghoulified, anyway?"

"The short answer is... Mini nuke."

"You took a blast from a fat man?" Boone asked. "You're lucky you're alive. Why'd you leave Nellis?"

"I was ghoulified. They didn't want me around anymore. I grabbed my favorite flamer and left."

"Is your name even Rocket?" Neiila asked.

"No. And why are you hiding under that cloak? I doubt you're as deformed as a ghoul like me."

"Hold on..." Cass began. "The Boomer aren't that old a group. How old are you, Rocket?"

"Hold that thought." The girl reached into her jacket and pulled out a frag grenade, which she pulled the pin of and chucked behind everyone. They turned to see a blackish deathclaw running up, the grenade exploding at its feet and sending it stumbling to the ground, hurt but not killed.

"What are you all standing around for? Finish it off!"

Skynet fired at its head, ending it.

"Was that the matriarch?" Raul wondered aloud.

"No. That was the alpha male. The matriarch will be even worse."

"Let's go." The Courier announced, obviously putting questioning Rocket on hold.

They made their way deeper into the quarry, and soon came upon what must have been the matriarch's den. To their surprise, she was sleeping amongst all of her eggs. Rocket gestured for them all to gather around her.

"Okay, here's the plan. I've got a special thing up my sleeve. Should take out that matriarch in one hit."

"What?" Cass asked, incredulous. "I know you're some sort of explosives expert, but not even a plasma grenade can take out a deathclaw matriarch in one hit."

"That's why I've got something more powerful." She reached into her jacket and pulled out a tin can of some kind with wires attached to it. "I call it a Nuka-Grenade. My own invention."

"Nuka-Grenade?" The Courier asked. "As in like Nuka-Cola?"

"You bet! I make this baby out of turpentine, Abraxo cleaner, and Nuka-Cola Quartz. The result is a potent cocktail of carbonation and detonation that makes plasma look like a bubble bath."

"That's pretty big words for someone who looks twelve years old." Boone remarked.

"Hey, twelve's the new twenty, sniperguy. Now, Jas has been lookin' for some deathclaw eggs, so I'll need you to lure her away from her nest. This thing would incinerate those eggs."

The Courier nodded. "I'm the fastest one here. I'll lure her away."

"No, Boss. Can't let you do that. You have your whole life ahead of you. I'm just an old man. Let me do it."

"No, Raul. I'm the most expendable here. I-"

A gunshot. They turned to see Boone had shot the deathclaw matriarch. He lowered his rifle as the mother deathclaw groggily got up and scratched at the bullet wound in its arm. Turning, it saw the group, giving a roar before charging forward.

"Hit the deck!" Rocket shouted. She tossed the tin can. Everyone ducked to the ground, but the Courier saw the tin can explode with a pulse of blue energy before engulfing the deathclaw in a burst of flame. The blast sent the deathclaw flying up and backwards a few feet before it fell dead to the ground.

Breathing a sigh of relief, the Courier stood up and walked over to the wall of the quarry, getting ready to climb.

"What is the human doing?" Skynet asked.

"One of the quarry workers said he saw what looked like people up on the cliff above the northwest end of the quarry. I need to investigate."

"Then why don't you just take the hill up at the entrance to the quarry? It'll lead straight to the cliff. More walking, but less climbing.

The Courier hopped back down to the ground. "Oh. Heh. Thanks, Rocket."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

What the Courier didn't expect to find on top of the cliff was three Great Khans. One of them, an African-American girl, addressed her as she approached, with an odd New Zealand accent.

"That's close enough. What do you want with the Great Khans?"

"Um... I'm the Courier. What are you doing up here?"

"Awaiting a delivery, but it's a no-show. I'm guessing that the deathclaws in the quarry have something to do with that."

"What kind of delivery were you expecting, miss?"

"Supplies to make chems. The NCR's the best source since they're hard to come by anywhere else. We don't really use the chems ourselves, just sell them to anybody with the caps. If it ends up hurting the NCR in the process, that's a bonus."

"Hm... Seems like an odd place to pick up a delivery."

"The Khans and the NCR don't get along. They prefer to shoot us on sight, even if we're not looking for a fight."

"Um... Is this delivery legal?"

"I doubt the NCR thinks so." She chuckled.

"Um... Would it be okay if I helped you with your delivery?"

"Is that right? What's your angle?"

"Um... N-No angle. I just want to help, ma'am."

"Right. All right, here's the deal. I was expecting a shipment of chemicals. It's usually in a suitcase dropped off in one of the big machines up here. Because of the deathclaws, I have to assume that the suitcase is still in Sloan. Snoop around the place and get it for me."

"Um... Are these chemicals dangerous?"

"I wouldn't eat or drink them, but no, they won't explode if you drop them or anything."

"Okay. Um... Anything else I should know?"

"Don't kill anybody if you don't have to. I'm a scout, and I like to keep a low profile."

"Okay. Got it. Um... Mind if I ask you a few personal questions?"

"I guess, considering you're helping us out."

"So... Tell me about the Great Khans."

"We're an independent group. We take care of our own and don't take crap from anybody, especially the NCR."

"What happened between the Great Khans and the NCR?"

"Bitter Springs happened. Women and children died when the NCR attacked the Great Khans there, and the NCR just pretends it never happened."

"How did you end up joining, Miss...?"

"Melissa. And it wasn't easy. There's a lot of initiation rituals to go through, and I've got the scars to prove it. But in the end, I was tough enough to be made a member. Proudest day of my life."

"Um... You have an unusual accent."

"Got it from my mother. Mostly took after her."

"Okay. Uh... Where are the rest of the Great Khans located?"

"Our main camp is up in Red Rock Canyon, but we don't allow just anyone to come on in. The NCR can't touch us there. Too many places for us to ambush them. We see their scouts poking around once in a while, but they keep their distance."

"Thanks for the info. I'll be going back to Sloan now."

"Don't leave a trail."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

On their way back, they talked some more with Rocket.

"That was pretty amazing, Rocket. You made that grenade yourself?"

"Yep. Not my recipe, but I made it myself. I've made all kinds of custom explosives. Bottlecap mines, powder charges, time bombs, mason jar mines, piggy bank grenades, gas bombs, fire bombs, you name it. But the most powerful is the Nuka-Grenade."

"So... How much explosives do you have stashed on you right now, Rocket?" Veronica nervously asked.

"I keep several of most kinds of grenades and mines on me at all times. But only one Nuka-Grenade. It's so powerful, I really only need one as a trump card. I'll need to make a new one when we get back to Sloan."

"Say, kid." Raul began. "Your voice isn't very scratchy for a ghoul. And you still have most of your hair. Your eyes still look okay, too."

"Yeah, well, that's because, um..." she sighed. "I was only ghoulified two months ago."

"What? You mean you really _aren't_ older than you look?" Cass asked, incredulous.

"Right. Let's just say, I probably won't be able to keep these ribbons in my hair much longer. The stuff's already falling out."

"Why do you wear those, anyway? They seem out of place." Neiila pointed out.

"Only reason I wear the damn ribbons is so that people know I'm a girl."

"Is Rocket even your real name?" Boone asked.

"No... It's just a nickname. My real name is Hanabi Shiranui."

"How did the ghoul child get so skilled with explosives?" Skynet asked.

"I'm a Boomer. We know explosives and heavy weapons like the back of our hands. I took an interest in them earlier than most,so I was a master at using explosives, crafting explosives, and disarming various traps since before I could walk. Even learned how to use a flamer. Always loved burning things as an alternative to blowing them up."

"Wow, we sure could use an explosives and traps expert on our team."

"Want one?"

The Courier paused. "What?"

"I'm bored in Sloan. Where are you headed?"

"Um... We're heading to New Vegas, Rocket. Tracking down the man who shot me."

"Really? Sweet! I gotta get me some a that. Vegas has all kinds of great casinos."

"Casinos? You gamble?"

"Yes. Very well, I might add. You take me along, I'll help you make money on the slots and blackjack tables. In addition to my explosives expertise, of course."

"Um... I guess that's okay. Anything we can do for you in return?"

"Just save any boxes of Sugar Bombs you find. I'm addicted to that stuff, and I can use it to make some homemade flamer fuel.

"Um... You've got a deal, I suppose."

"Sweet! Thanks!"

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Rather than snoop around like Melissa had suggested, the Courier went straight to Chomps Lewis to see if he knew anything about it. But first, she needed to announce their job complete.

"Um... We killed the deathclaw matriarch and alpha male, Mr. Lewis."

"Comin' from anyone else, I'd say they were drunk or crazy, but that look in your eyes... I believe you. I can pay you, but it ain't much for what you pulled off. I'll get on the ham radio first thing and tell people all about you, though."

He handed her five one hundred dollar NCR bills. Normally, the Courier would say she couldn't accept it, but she felt her companions needed it for what she put them through leading them into a deathclaw-infested quarry. She pocketed the money and thanked Chomps Lewis.

"Um... One more thing. I'm looking for a suitcase filled with chemical supplies for... um... a friend. Do you know anything, Mr. Lewis, sir?"

"Ah, yes. I think I know which friend you mean. Even if there weren't deathclaws in the quarry, there'd still be no delivery. The supplier, a guy in Primm named Tyrone, is a cheating son of a bitch who won't deliver even though he's already been paid in advance."

"Um... You know Melissa, Mr. Lewis?"

"She's my daughter." The Courier's eye widened. "Takes a little too much after her mother, rest her soul, but she's happy with the Great Khans, and that's enough for me."

"And you don't mind that you're helping the Great Khans, sir?"

"I'm just the middle man. The Great Khans are a hard group, and some of them are no good, but they're not all the same. I believe in the NCR, but that doesn't make it right for them to roll over anyone who doesn't want any part of them."

"Well... I guess I agree, or I wouldn't be helping them, too. So... has this Tyrone cheated you before?"

"He's always been shady, but this is the first time he's outright screwed me."

"Okay. Thank you, Mr. Lewis, sir. I'll go pay Tyrone a visit. He's in Primm, right?"

"Yeah. He's one of the soldiers there, so check the NCR camp. And good luck"

The Courier returned to her group in the diner, where they were enjoying some deathclaw omelets made by Jas.

"Um... I'm going to Primm to pick up the chemical delivery for Melissa. Anyone want to join me?"

"I'm in!" Rocket cheered. "I heard the casino there reopened. Time for me to prove how good I am at gambling to all of you!"

"I'll come with." Cass explained, getting up from the table. "You might need my help."

The Courier smiled. "Thanks, Rocket. Thanks, Cass." Edy beeped. "Oh, you want to come too, Edy? Okay!"

**XXXXXXXXXX**

It took them two days to reach Primm, but Tyrone wasn't a hard man to find. He was in one of the tents at the NCR camp. Rocket went straight for the casino, though.

"Hey, hey. What can Tyrone do for you?"

"A friend in Sloan told me to come to you about some chemical supplies." The Courier told him.

"You trying to get me busted? Keep your damn voice down." The soldier whispered. "Lieutenant Hayes already has his eye on me. Look, I already told Chomps that the NCR's getting suspicious of all these 'misplaced' supplies. Bigger risk means bigger cost. Three hundred caps bigger."

"But, um... You were already pain in advance." The Courier pointed out.

"Yeah, and as it turns out, the advance wasn't enough. The price had gone up. That's just how it goes. I'd love to help you and Chomps, but I've got my own expenses to worry about."

"But... but...!"

Cass shoved her aside. "Let me handle this, Courier." She walked up to Tyrone, standing awfully close and looking into his eyes, a pouty look on her face. "How about you and I come to another agreement?" she asked, her voice husky. "It'll be worth it. Trust me."

"Well..." Tyrone cleared his throat. He seemed surprised and a little uncomfortable, but not displeased. "It's been a while. All right, let's do this."

The Courier wasn't sure what was about to happen, but she had an idea. She hurriedly ran out of the tent. Edy right behind her.

She stood outside the tent, hearing various moans, screams, and banging coming from the tent. She covered her ears and tried to drown out the sounds with her Pip-Boy's radio, but each moan, scream, or thud send a sharp pain coursing through her head. About fifteen minutes later, Cass left, tossing the Courier a briefcase as she pulled her jacket back on.

"Um... Cass?" The Courier began, shifting with discomfort. "Was that really necessary?"

"Probably not, but it was fun all the same."

"You didn't really... d-did you?"

"Listen, Courier, sometimes sex is the answer for tough situations. Besides, I hadn't done the deed since my caravan was slaughtered. Besides, he was cute. I kind of have a thing for bald men." The Courier idly wondered what Cass would do if she ever saw Boone without his beret.

Rocket walked up to them then, tossing Cass a brown sack and the Courier a stealth boy.

"There ya go! Two-thousand, five-hundred and twenty caps."

"Shit, kid. You really are good at gambling." Cass remarked, slipping the sack into their funds box.

"And the stealth boy? Where'd you get this?" the Courier asked.

"Prize for doing so well. You can have it. Bad news is, I'm banned from gambling at the Vikki and Vance. Reached the house limit on wins."

"Hang on... Why are you so lucky, Rocket? Did you cheat?"

"Nah. I just have natural luck is all. Let's go. It's a two day trip back to Sloan."

"Um... S-Sure."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"What do you want now?"

They had returned to the Great Khan encampment on the cliff above Quarry Junction, the drug chemicals in hand. "Um... I got the chemicals for you." She handed Melissa the briefcase.

"You actually came through for us. I... didn't expect that. Anyway, the Great Khans pay their debts and don't forget their friends. If you ever come out to Red Rock Canyon, I'll put in a good word for you."

"It was no trouble, Melissa. We should get going."

"Hold on. I need to pay you."

"What? But you don't have to-"

"I insist. What I can give you is some caps and some chems we have on us. Here."

The Courier received a bottle of Buffout, a flask of Rebound, a bottle of Steady, and one hundred and fifty caps. "Well... Thank you, Melissa. I'll stop by Red Rock some time and see everyone. Might be some way I can help out around there."

"Stay safe, Courier."

"Sure thing, Melissa."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Author's Notes:

**1.** Pa's Fishing Aid was a unique Double-Barrel Shotgun that was cut from Fallout 3's Point Lookout DLC. Evidently, it's not anywhere in Point Lookout because Cass's father John Cassidy owned it.

**2.** Wasteland Penguins are a fan-created Fallout creature. They're chickens that devolved back to scales instead of feathers, but still lay good eggs and make tasty meat. Expect to see Centisheep and Pig Rats as well.

**3.** Rocket belongs to Quetzlsacatango and Cyberweasel89, used with permission.

**4.** Nuka-Grenades are a weapon from Fallout 3, the most powerful grenade in the game. They're reintroduced into Fallout: New Vegas with the "Gun Runners' Arsenal" DLC.

**5.** Mason Jar Mines and Piggy Bank Grenades were crafting weapons cut from Fallout 3. They only appear in the concept art.


	8. Chapter 7: Freeside Frenzy

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Fallout. Fallout belongs to Bethesda, who purchased the rights from Black Isle.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Fallout:** New Vegas

Unknown Origins

By _Cyberweasel89_

**Chapter 7:** Freeside Frenzy

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Surprisingly, during their five day trek north to Vegas, they only ran into some fire geckos and some frag mines laid out on the road, the latter of which Rocket easily disarmed and pocketed. When they reached the gate to Freeside, the first thing the Courier noticed was the three young men congregating outside. They didn't seem eager to talk to her, only telling her not to mess with 'the kings'. Taking a deep breath, the Courier pushed open the gates and entered Freeside.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

First thing she noticed was how run-down and full of garbage the place was. The buildings were mostly old and crumbling, and several of the people walking around were dirty or dressed poorly. To the Courier's right were three four people, a tourist, a man in metal armor, a man in leather armor, and a young man in a leather jacket. The first two seemed to be discussing prices on something, while the young man in the leather jacket took a glance over at them, but looked away. The Courier stepped up to him.

"Excuse me, but-"

"I don't think you need a bodyguard. You're a pretty large group."

"Um... Bodyguard?"

"That's right. You wanna travel safely through Freeside, you hire a King. We're everywhere, and no one messes with us."

"King?"

"Yeah. The Kings. We rule Freeside."

"Why would anyone need a bodyguard?"

"Freeside's a little dangerous for people travelling alone or in small groups. You go without a guard, you're rollin' the dice, you know? You must be new. You'll learn. Trust me."

"Um... May I ask you a few questions, though?"

"No. I'm not an info kiosk."

"Um... I could pay you for the info."

"Now you're talkin' my language. One hundred caps for each question."

Ooo. That was steep. But she had plenty. She paid him a hundred caps.

"Um... Where can we rent rooms for the night?"

"Check the Atomic Wrangler up down the street through the gate and to the right." He gestured. "It has whores, a bar, a casino, and rooms for guests."

"Thanks. Where might we buy some things?" She paid him.

"Mick and Ralph's. They sell a bit of everything, and they can repair your stuff. But if you want energy weapons, try the Van Graffs at the Silver Rush next to the Atomic Wrangler. Consider that one a freebie."

"Thanks so much! Um... are there doctors in Freeside?" She paid him another hundred caps.

"Try the Old Mormon Fort, through the wooden gate just over there." He gestured to it. "The Followers of the Apocalypse have a lot of doctors, and even a few mechanics if your robots need repairs."

"Um... where can we get something to eat?" She handed him another hundred caps.

"Genaro over there," he pointed "sells some cheap food, but it's low-quality. I'd suggest the Atomic Wrangler if you want something more filling. If you need water, there's a pump in the other part of town, run by us Kings, but you need to pay for a drink."

"Okay. Uh... does anyone need any help around here?" She was about to pay him, but he pushed her hand back.

"You're askin' the wrong guy, girly. I don't keep track of who needs help around here. Just check the places I mentioned and ask them."

"Um... Okay, thanks."

He chuckled. "Heh. I should consider tellin' the King about this. I just made four hundred caps just by giving info. He might want to consider expanding our business ventures."

The Courier giggled. "Is that the leader of the Kings?"

"Yes. He's a fair man, but don't cross him. You really don't wanna see him angry."

"Okay. I'll be careful."

The group made their way in, stopping by Genaro's stall for some food. He was mostly stocked with crispy squirrel bits, squirrels on sticks, iguana bits, iguanas on sticks, mutfruits, and crunchy mutfruits. But food is food. You can't be picky. Their first stop would be the Old Mormon Fort, to see if they needed help.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

They walked in, and the Courier was surprised to see a ghoul in a duster and cowboy hat, a revolver at each hip. She stepped up to talk to her.

"Howdy. Need something?"

"Um... Hi, I'm the Courier. You are?" She reached out her hand to shake.

The ghoul didn't take her hand. "Beatrix Russell."

"Tell me a little about yourself, Ms. Russell, please."

"I've been around a awhile. Currently workin' for the Followers as a gun for hire... But it's gettin' rather dull. Aside from protecting them from the occasional thug looking to intercept supply shipments, there isn't much to do around here. The one researcher I liked who I could chat up about liquor got transferred, and the rest of the docs are pretty uptight about my kind of fun."

"What are you doing with the Followers, Ms. Russell?"

"I joined up looking for a decent-paying job. Granted, the pay is all right, but they won't let me kick back and slog a brew at the end of the day. They're worried the filthy drunkies in detox seeing me drink will cause an immediate relapse. I say their rehab effort here is just a revolving door."

"Hm... I don't really see it that way, but I bet you've seen a lot over the years, right?"

"I've been around long enough to observe the patterns of human behavior. Physical and mental anguish are especially exciting to explore."

"Um... I'm not sure I understand..."

"Hey, who doesn't enjoy a little pinch and squeal every once in a while?"

The Courier stepped back, flinching as realization hit here. Was she a dominatrix? "Um... Thanks, Ms. Russell. Uh, may I ask you some questions?"

"Sure. Go ahead. See if I answer."

"Can you tell me a bit about Freeside, Ms. Russell, ma'am?"

"What starts in misery tends to stay there. Freeside wasn't Freeside until six or seven years ago. That's when Mr. House's robots rolled out of the Lucky 38 and started pushing everyone who wouldn't join him off the Strip. Lots of folks died. Some scattered to the winds. The rest wound up in Freeside and seem never to end the habit of living like refugees."

"Wow. That's surprising. Um... Can you tell me about the Kings, please?"

"What about 'em? Pretty much the sort of gang you'd find anywhere else, just with better clothes. The King himself, though? He's got that something special you can't put a finger on. Too bad he likes girls with skin."

"So... he's charismatic?"

"That's an understatement."

"Okay. Um... Can you tell me about the Followers of the Apocalypse?"

"I don't know how they do it. They're like saints, those Followers. If they didn't charge for their services, I'd think they was crazy. But nah, they're just naive. Warms your heart. Anything else?"

"No, I think that's... Oh! Know anything about the Van Graffs who run the Silver Rush?"

"A couple a radscorpions, those two. Gloria is the stable one, but she'd slit your throat if there was profit in it. Or rather, she'd tell her brother to do it for her. Jean Baptiste is one of the sicker humans I've had the displeasure of observing."

"Okay, um... I'll keep that in mind. Thanks for the info."

"No problem. If you need a doctor, Julie Farkas is in charge. She's the girl with the mohawk."

"Thanks, Ms. Russell."

She looked around, and soon zeroed in on a woman with a mohawk. The Courier walked up to her to see if she could help.

"Are you here to drop off medical supplies? Leave them with the rest in the middle of the courtyard."

"Um... You need medical supplies?"

"Rates of injury and illness in Freeside are very high. Supplies don't last long."

"What do you need? I'm sure we can help..." Cass and Boone shared a chuckle. How like their little Courier.

"Med-X, RadAway, and Fixer are Freeside essentials. I can't pay you for any supplies you bring in, but I could discount the charge for our services."

"You've got yourself a deal." The Courier shook her hand, smiling.

"Just come see me when you've got some supplies to turn in."

"Hold on." Cass interjected. "It sounds more like you need a steady supply, rather than just what we can grab for you."

"So far the Crimson Caravan won't cut us a deal. If you can convince them or some other merchant to work with us, I'll discount supplies to you."

"Sure! Which merchants might be willing to make a deal?" the Courier asked.

"You might ask around at Mick and Ralph's, or go see the Garretts, though I suspect they're too busy poisoning Freeside to help it out."

"Okay. But... Things seem really rough here in Freeside."

"More than rough. It's a damn mess. Freeside townies are constantly picking fights with NCR civilians. Thugs and thieves are always looking for a victim, and the local families are just sitting back making caps on the mess. Freeside is in dire need, but no one has been man enough to step up. The Followers can only do so much to stem the tide."

"Is there anything I can do to help, aside from get you a steady flow of supplies?"

"There is always something needing done. A few souls here in Freeside could be great assets to the community, if they'd kick their addictions. We need a steady supply of medicine, but the Crimson Caravan wants too many caps for it. And lastly, tensions between the townies and NCR tourists have been going downhill fast lately. A lot of innocent people will get hurt if things blow up."

"First things first. The addicts. Where are they and how can I help them?"

She seemed a bit taken aback. Why were so many people surprised when she offered help? "Yes. Old Bill Ronte and Jacob Hoff. They're not going to kick their habits on their own."

"Tell me about Bill Ronte, please."

"Old Bill Ronte is an exceptionally skilled machinist. He could fix the problems we've been having with Freeside's water pump... if he sobered up."

"And Jacob Hoff?"

"The Garrets hooked Jacob on chems when he was working for them. Ironic, since he used to homebrew detox chems. He's a natural chemist."

"Um... My robot friend is a chemist, and my ghoul friend is a mechanic. Maybe they could help?"

"They could help in the short term, but something tells me you can't stay in town forever."

"Right. Where do I start looking?"

"In Freeside, the drunks and drug addicts flock in and around the Atomic Wrangler. I'd start there."

"I'll see what I can do to help."

"Sobering them up and putting them back to work would go a long way toward helping Freeside."

The Courier nodded. She turned to Raul. "Raul, I need you to see if you can repair the water pump or anything else around here for the Followers."

Raul was surprised. She had asked nicely, but there was something about the way she asked him... It was like she was giving him an order he was compelled to follow. "You got it, Boss. I'll go grab my tool kit."

"Thanks, Raul." She smiled at him. The ghoul mechanic felt oddly warm inside. The Courier turned to Skynet. "Skynet, head to the Followers' chem lab and see if you can help them brew some chems. I'll come back for you when I find Jacob Hoff."

"If that is what the human wishes."

"Thanks so much, Skynet!" She hugged the robot.

"Now, Doctor Farkas, who would I see about calming things down in Freeside?"

"The big man around here is the King. Not much happens in Freeside that he doesn't know about. He has the most influence locally, and some of his crew haven't helped the situation by harassing NCR citizens and charging double for water. Some NCR soldiers have been bringing in supplies, but none of it is going to Freeside locals. I've tried to speak to both sides, to no avail."

"Got it. Thank you! Um... May we leave our pack brahmin here?"

"Considering you're helping us a great deal, I don't see why not. She'll be fed and well cared for."

"Thanks so much, Doctor Farkas!"

As the Courier and her group ran off to get to work, leaving Raul and Skynet there, a single Followers doctor had watched the entire exchange from the tent he occupied. "Huh. I'll have to keep an eye on that one."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Can't help but be impressed with what they're doing here."

Veronica spoke up as they exited the Old Mormon Fort. The Courier turned to her. "Something on your mind, Veronica?"

"You can't help but notice that the Brotherhood barely exists to these people out here. We're like an urban myth. No real presence on the Outside. We just don't adapt like we should. Used to be all you needed to get your way was a suit of power armor and a laser rifle. Now... people are armed and organized. They're not afraid. But we still stick to our old approach, because it's all we know."

"Well... The way you talk, it seems the Brotherhood is living in the past. Eventually they'll have to change, I figure."

"I think you're right. We're getting desperate. Hardly enough people to sustain ourselves as a chapter. They'll see the light, sooner or later. But I get the feeling if I don't take matters into my own hands, the change won't come in time to make a difference."

"Well... Just try to think on it some more. Don't want to do anything rash, right?"

"Yeah. I know."

They made their way to Mick and Ralph's, passing several drunks as they entered the store. A ghoul named Rotface was a veritable fountain of information, each rumor for only one cap. They found a man in a red shirt near the front of the store, which appeared to have once been a Laundromat.

"Um... Hi."

"Name's Ralph. If you're looking for guns, talk to Mick. Otherwise I've got a nice selection of general supplies and other services."

"Um... Other services?"

"I only offer services if the King gives the okay. Impress him, and we can talk."

Okay... time to try something Cass taught her. "Oh, c-come on. I'm sure a resourceful man like you m-must have something on the s-side." She reached up to part her shirt a bit, scratching on the inside of her breast like an idle itch.

"Ah ha ha ha! Nice try kid. First, you need to deepen your voice a little. Second, don't stutter when you try to flirt with someone. It makes you seem nervous. Confidence is what makes a woman seem sexier. And third, I'm actually a legs man."

Dammit! Why does she get the worst luck! The Courier sighed, a deep blush of shame on her face, as she turned to walk away.

"Hang on." She stopped, turning back to him. "Failed flirtations aside, you're right. I've got a little side business going. But what I'm about to share with you does _not_ leave this room, eh?" The Courier nodded, her face serious. "Over the years, I've gradually improved my craft to the point of perfection.No one can distinguish between my work from the real thing. What I'm referring to... is passports. If you've got the caps, I can whip up a Strip passport that will fool even the most well-trained eye."

"Oh, n-now I see why you want to keep this, um... low key."

"Hey, if you're interested and have the caps, they go for five hundred. Any less and it ain't worth the risk of getting caught. What do you say? You game?"

"Yes please! Do I need one for each of my friends?"

"Yes. Otherwise people could sneak in pretending to be groups. But it's cheaper than showing them you each have two thousand caps."

"Um... We're a big group. There's me, Boone, Veronica, Cass, Neiila, and Raul. And um... th-that's assuming robots, animals, and children get in free. Can you cut us a half-price deal for each of us, please?"

"Well... Fine, I guess. That comes to fifteen hundred caps."

"Cass, can we cover that?"

"Thanks to Rocket, we can. Her wins at the casino in Primm are a big help." The merchant rooted through their funds box and paid the man. He walked off, returning with five passports, which he handed to the Courier.

"Anything else?" Ralph asked.

"Um... The Followers are looking to set up a supply deal."

"We don't have the stills or equipment to supply the amount of meds they're lookin' to purchase. You could check with other wasteland merchants, but your best bet would be the Atomic Wrangler. They've got a bunch of stills and a seemingly endless supply of grain alcohol, which could be used as anesthetic or disinfectant."

"Okay. Thanks, Ralph."

"Thanks for stoppin' in."

She walked over to the other man in the store, the one in the gray shirt.

"Um... Hi."

"Welcome to Mick and Ralph's. I'm Mick. If you need guns, I'm your man. For general supplies and other services, see my partner Ralph." He greeted.

"Um... We need some ammo. .357 magnum, .308, 12 gauge, and microfusion cells."

"I can provide everything but the microfusion cells. Go to the Silver Rush for that. How many you want?"

"Um... A box of each is fine."

"Sure. Let me ring that up for you."

"So, um... How's business?"

"Things were better when the Omertas were buying, but we get by. Good selection from traders and the Van Graffs keep things running."

"Why did the Omertas stop buying from you?

"That's the thing, I have no idea. They just stopped buying guns all of a sudden. If you hear anything, let me know."

"Sure thing. When we get to the Strip, I'll ask around."

"Thanks. Come back and see us soon."

"Oh, one more thing. Have you seen Jacob Hoff or Bill Ronte?"

"Yeah, Hoff's in the ruined building just across the street, high out of his mind on Jet."

"Thanks so much!"

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Sure enough, they found Jacob Hoff right where Mick said he would be. Surrounded by empty Jet inhalers, too.

"Do you have chems, lady? I could really use a fix."

"Um... You're Jacob Hoff?"

"Yeah. So... got any chems?"

"Um... Julie Farkas says you could use some help, sir."

"Julie's a saint, but I don't need help. I feel young and strong, as long as I get my chems.

"You look pretty bad... you should stop using chems."

"Why stop? I feel great! No worries, my guy will be here soon enough, just wait."

"Who's supplying you?"

"If I had two caps to scrape together I'd buy the materials to make my own, but my damn hands won't stop shaking. This guy named Dixon. Something about him seems sketchy, but I can't stop now. Last time I stopped, I felt like I was going to turn inside out. At this point, I'm mostly buying his stuff just so I don't feel sick. Speaking of which, do you have any spare caps?"

The Courier sighed. "No, I don't." She turned and walked away. They had to stop by the Atomic Wrangler for a room and a Followers supply deal.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The entire place was seedy. Prostitutes, armed guards, the smell of booze and chems. But it was the only place to stay in Freeside, so their options were limited. A woman in a light gray suit was manning the bar. The Courier walked up to talk to her, taking a seat on a stool that looked relatively clean.

"Welcome to the Atomic Wrangler. We've got liquor, chems, and whores a plenty. Pick your fix and we'll oblige. Our only rule is no sampling the merchandise. Caps paid in advance. If you'd like to do a bit of gambling, we have an exchange at the back of the casino on the left. Since you're new, I'll lay out the rules for you. The prostitutes here _aren't_ slaves. _They_ decide who they service. You best make a good first impression if you want what they have to offer. Rooms are just a few caps a night. Your choice of company is extra, assuming anyone's taken a liking to you." the woman explained.

"Uh... I'll keep it in mind. Um... The Followers are looking to trade for supplies." The Courier explained.

"Interesting... Well, you're going to need to speak with my brother James. He handles all the trading contracts and general operations."

"Okay. Uh... d-do you have any work you need done here?"

"I have some work I need handled. Back before we instituted the caps up front rule, we used to allow customers tabs. Well, needless to say, a few customers snuck out without paying their bills. We need someone to collect. The job would pay a percentage."

"Um... A percentage?"

"If you bring all their debts back, we'll give you a cut of each. Twenty-five percent is more than fair. It would add up to a hundred and fifty caps if you bring 'em all in."

"Um... that sounds good so long as I don't have to hurt anyone."

"I'd prefer you not kill anyone with a debt. It's a bit difficult to collect on a corpse. Just get the caps from them. After that, I couldn't care less what happens to those deadbeats."

"Then I guess you have yourself a deal, Miss Garrett."

"Great. There are three people who need to be tracked down. A real mixed basket of fruits. Their names are Grecks, Santiago, and Lady Jane."

"Um... Tell me about Grecks, please."

"Grecks is a bit cracked, but mostly harmless. Just don't mention anything about his lazy eye. He owes a hundred and thirty-eight caps and should still be around Freeside."

"And Santiago?"

"Santiago is a suave son of a bitch, but a total pansy when it comes to fisticuffs. He owes two hundred and twelve caps and should be around Freeside as well."

"And what about Lady Jane?"

"Lady Jane fancies herself a high roller, but she's just another dirtbag NCR prospector. I'm not sure where to find her. I hear she's run goods for the Followers of the Apocalypse in the past, but other locals might know more. She owes us two hundred and fifty caps."

"Okay, I'll get right on it."

"Anything else you need?"

"Yeah. Um... may I talk to your brother, please?"

"Sure." She turned toward the door behind the counter. "Hey, James! Some chick with huge knockers wants to talk to you!"

The Courier lowered her head, mortified, a deep crimson blush spreading to her cheeks. She could feel every eye in the bar area on her! Her blush didn't lessen as a man in a light gray suit identical to Francine Garret's walked out from the back room.

"Welcome to the Atomic Wrangler. What can I get you? Shit, your face is beet red! Hope Francine didn't embarrass you." the man greeted. He sounded sincere...

"Um... I-I-It's okay. Uh... Th-The Followers need someone to t-trade with for supplies."

"Right to the point, eh? I like that. But really, now? This is news. We could possibly supply what they need, but they would have to supply us in kind. They have the tech know-how to make our stills work more efficiently. Purer alcohol means we can get our customers drunk quicker. Getting our customers drunk quicker, means more caps spent at the card tables, and stuffing slots if you know what I mean. Plus, the extra alcohol can serve as surgical disinfectant for their needs. The Followers are a good lot. They've stitched up our boys in the past."

"Um... That sounds okay to me, I guess... I'll have to talk to Doctor Farkas about it."

"Good. We can supply them with all the Med-X they need. For the Fixer, we'll only be able to send over some basic drug components. We're not in the business of getting people off drugs, so we don't really dabble in that side of things. The Followers should be able to whip some up with what we have available, though. They just need to agree to fix our stills and keep them maintained, plus cover the cost for raw materials needed to make the alcohol."

"That sounds reasonable. Th-Thank you."

The Courier hopped off the stool. She still had a slight tint of pink to her face. "I'm going to go handle those debts. Boone, Edy, you come with me, please. Rocket, I know you want to gamble a bit, so go ahead. Cass, Veronica, Neiila, see what else you can do around Freeside, please." Boone nodded, following the Courier out with Edy.

"If you're looking for work..." Began James Garrett. Cass leaned forward and rested her arms on the counter, letting the man know she was listening. "We've had some... unusual requests from some of our wealthier customers. If you can recruit escorts to match these customers'... proclivities... I'd be willing to pay you finder's fees."

"Depends." Cass began. "What sort of 'proclivities' are we talking about?"

"Good. Gotta make sure you know what you're in for before you agree. For starters, our wealthiest client has a thing for ghouls, and a thing for cowboys. He wants an escort who can satisfy both fetishes. Second, plenty of customers have said they'd be willing to pay extra for a suave talker, someone who can fake the 'boyfriend experience' real good. And then there's these... disgusting robot fetishists you may have heard about? Well... those creeps want a sexbot. Have you ever run across a sexbot? Not that I'd ever want one within a hundred feet of me, but... I gotta be a businessman about it."

"Fine, but I'll expect a hundred camps _minimum_" she tapped the counter to emphasize the word further. "for each candidate we bring in."

"Sure. Just don't... rough up the merchandise before delivery. You break it, you bought it."

Cass produced a smug smile. "Surely these escorts are critical to your business? How about double?"

"Okay, you've got yourself a deal. Find escorts to fill the positions and I'll pay double."

"I'll see if I run across any suitable candidates."

"Just direct them to the Wrangler. I'll pay you when they show up."

Cass stood up and walked to the door, Veronica and Neiila on her heel.

"Wow. The Courier never asks for more money than they offer. Nice job, Cass."

"Our little Courier is too naive for a job like this." Cass responded, adjusting her hat.

Neiila giggled. "This'll be awesome! Like our own little adventure!"

"I'm gonna go gamble! Have fun recruiting prostitutes!" Rocket called after them as they left. Rubbing her palms together, she stopped by the cashier and picked up two hundred chips to start herself off.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"How are you today? Santiago is fabulous!"

Well, they found the man. They just asked around and found him ambling about by a burning barrel. He was dressed in a nice suit, with a little mustache and goatee. He certainly seemed quite the charmer...

"Santiago? Is that you?"

"Yes, I am Santiago! And I must say, it is a pleasure to see you, my fine flower." He gently took her hand and bent down to kiss it. The Courier felt a blush spread across her cheeks, but Boone just scoffed.

"Um... M-Mr. Santiago, I think you, um... you m-might owe the Garrets some caps?"

"Santiago does not owe anyone. Santiago is a Freeside VIP.

"VIP? Um... The Garrets didn't say anything about VIP status..." She heard Boone sigh.

"Yes indeed, Santiago is very important. I even have a discount at Mick and Ralph's. Perhaps you could use Santiago's discount? For fifty caps, Santiago will tell you the super secret code word to get a discount with Mick."

"Really? Fifty caps is a bit steep, but I don't see why no-"

"Hold up." Boone butted in, even drawing his sniper rifle as he stepped between the two. "The Garrets warned us you were a smooth talker."

He was still smiling, but worry flashed in his eyes. "Indeed! Santiago is a poet among pretenders. If you are here to collect for the Garrets, Santiago is debt free."

"Look." Boone sighed. "I'd rather not kill you, but the Garrets put a bounty on your head."

His smile fell. "I didn't think she was upset enough to have me killed! Here are the caps I owe." He reached into his pocket and handed Boone a bag that jingled with bottlecaps. "I do the Santiago act to get out of paying for services every once in a while. I didn't think it could possibly get me killed!"

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Hey, Ralph!"

The man looked up as the three women entered. A cowgirl, a brotherhood scribe, and a short chick hidden in a cloak. "You were in here earlier with the busty girl, right? Need something?"

"Yeah. We're looking for a sexbot, and Rotface says you know programming."

"Ha! Are you some kind of machine fetishist or something?"

"Nah, nothin' like that." The merchant leaned on the washing machines that served as the man's desk. "The Garrets are just looking to satisfy certain clients."

"Heh. Well, the only place I know of locally would be Cerulean Robotics. But that place has been overrun by vermin for years. If you want to check the place out, you can find it on the west side of Freeside. The entrance is on the back side of the building. Just watch out for thugs. The rats aren't the only vermin you need to worry about."

"Is there a holotape or anything we'll need for the sexbot?" Veronica asked.

"I don't know of any, but if you give me a few hours and some caps, I think I could probably make one on my terminal."

"Data modules are rare but generally useless. How about a hundred caps?" Veronica suggested. Cass looked at her, impressed, making the scribe blush.

"All right. Come back in a couple hours, and I should have it ready for you."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Hello. Lovely to meet you."

Well, Lady Jane was a bit hard to track down, but luckily Old Ben told them where to find her.

"Are you Lady Jane?" the Courier asked.

"I haven't the time to speak to commoners such as yourself."

"Um... I was hired by the Garrets to track you down."

"In that case, I suppose you're here to collect. I apologize, but I simply do not have enough caps on me to cover the debt. If someone were to recover my caravan from that cave, I could easily pay in full, but who would bother with such a mess?"

The Courier frowned, her brow furrowing. "Hm... Lady Jane, I can tell you're lying through your teeth."

Boone chuckled. Looks like the kid could wise up sometimes.

"Damn! I didn't want to hand over all of my caps because I won't have enough to get home to California. Here, take it all. I'll find my way home one way or another."

"Oh, no, that's okay. If you'd like, I can pay your debt for you."

"You'd... You'd do that for me?"

"Of course! In fact, do you need some extra to get back home?"

"Well... I suppose if you have another hundred caps to spare, that would certainly help."

"How about three hundred?" She handed the woman a small bag of bottlecaps. Her mouth fell agape, and stayed that way as the Courier left, Boone in tow, shaking his head.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Howdy."

Cass, Veronica, and Neiila found Beatrix right where they saw her last, sitting at a table in the Old Mormon Fort.

"Hey, Beatrix. Interested in working for the Garrets?" Cass asked, standing over the ghoul and crossing her arms.

"They already have that pigMcCaffery working for them. Do they really need another guard?"

"This would be as an, uh... escort." Veronica nervously explained.

"Eh, I've escorted my share of idiot tourists around Freeside. Too much trouble for what it pays."

"When I say 'escort', I mean 'prostitute'."

"I'm all boot, knives, and leather, friend. And a ghoul, besides. What kind of weirdo wants what I've got?"

"It turns out there are customers looking for someone just like you!" Neiila explained.

"Weirdoes into bullwhips and necrosis, huh? Heh. Doesn't sound half-bad... What am I thinkin'? I'm no whore, and I ain't about to hand my ass over to some penny-ante hustler like he owns me."

"You'd be an independent." Cass explained. "With a deep discount on the booze, too."

"Hmm... They do have a damn good selection a' hooch over at the Wrangler. If I get to choose my customers, if I get to be a little rough with them, if my cut is fair, and if I get that discount? That just might work. Tell the Garrets I'll stop by to work out terms."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Hey man. Can you spare a few caps?"

"Um... A-Are you the Grecks who owes the Garrets?"

"That all depends on who's askin'."

"Um... I hate to bother you, but I think you owe the Garrets some caps, sir. I'm just here to collect, if you don't mind." Boone sighed.

"Aw, crap. I was hoping they'd forget about my tab. Look, I've got the caps right here, just don't hurt me."

"Oh? Thank you so much! Um... May I ask what happened to your eye, Mr. Grecks, sir?"

His cheek twitched. "Huh? Huh? My eye? A scum-humping water baron did this to me! No one talks trash about my eye!"

Boone got ready to pull his rifle off his back when Grecks pulled a switchblade, but the ghoul stopped in his tracks. Boone looked down to see the Courier hugging him.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to insult you... I was just worried about you, sir..." she said, her voice heavy with emotion. "You don't have to worry about the Garrets. I'll pay your tab for you. In fact, if you need caps, I have plenty."

The ghoul seemed stunned speechless. The Courier pulled away, reaching into her satchel to hand the ghoul five hundred bottlecaps. She walked off, leaving him still standing there, the bag of caps in one hand, the switchblade in the other. The latter fell to the ground a few moments after.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"How are you today? Santiago is fabulous!"

"Cut the crap, buddy." Cass told him. "Listen, James Garret is looking for a suave escort. Are you interested in some work?"

"I am honored they would consider me! I'll start immediately."

The man walked off. Veronica turned to Neiila. "Well, that was easy."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"You seen Dixon around? He said he'd be back today."

"Um... Are you Bill Ronte, sir?" the Courier asked the balding, bearded man. He seemed to be squatting in a ruined building, surrounded by empty whiskey bottles.

"Yes I am. Do you need something?"

"Um... Julie Farkas sent me to help you sober up."

"Julie? Ah, I love Julie. She's such a nice lady. One time, I was workin' on the water pump and she came over, put her hand on my shoulder, and told me I was doin' a great job. Heh. Great job she says! I just choked up and didn't say nothin'. Compliments are so rare these days."

"Why don't you stop drinking, sir?"

"Drop drinkin'? Heh. I've been drinkin' for a straight month! Listen, I've tried to stop, but the withdrawal symptoms are so bad, I feel like I'm gonna die! I can't stop now!"

"But... how can you afford so much alcohol?"

"Dixon sells me booze dirt cheap. It does the job, but it tastes like paint thinner and I feel like I'm gonna die if I stop drinkin' for a day. I swear that guy is tryin' to kill me, but what can I do? Drinkin' other booze doesn't cure the sickness like his."

"Hm... Okay. Thank you, Mr. Ronte, sir."

As she walked away with Boone and Edy, the sniper turned to her. "Both are being supplied by a merchant named Dixon. You thinking what I'm thinking, kid?"

The Courier nodded. "Yeah. We need to pay this Dixon a visit."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The ladies picked up the sexbot holotape and proceeded to Cerulean Robotics.

The building was mostly filled with broken Protectrons and giant rats, the latter of which were easily dispatched. In the break room, they found an old key next to a skeleton, which unlocked a cabinet with a terminal access card. There was a working Protectron in storage, so Veronica loaded Ralph's holotape into it to reprogram the robot. The storage container opened, the robot stepped out. It seemed to have a Vault-like blue and yellow decal.

"Fully Integrated Security Technotronic Officer active and reporting for duty." The Protectron said.

"Hm..." Cass mused. "That's a mouthful. Let's shorten that to Fisto."

"Yes, ma'am. Fisto reporting for duty. Please assume the position."

"What? No!" Veronica yelped.

"Don't worry, kid. Leave that to me."

"What? You're really going to have sex with that robot, Cass?"

"Well, we need to test it out for the Garrets, don't we?"

"I am programmed for your pleasure. Please assume the position."

"Okay, let's do this." Cass cracked her knuckles.

"Servos active."

Veronica quickly pulled Neiila into the next room, despite the secret alien's protests.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Lookin' for a fix, man? I got what you need."

The Courier frowned at the man. From what the vagrant nearby said, this was Dixon. "Um... Do you know anything about Bill Ronte or Jacob Hoff?"

"Yeah, man! Those cats are outta their domes addicted to my shit! They can't get enough! Pretty hilarious to watch!"

The Courier's frown deepened. "What? Are you trying to kill your customers?"

"Those fools are from the NCR. I love seeing those squatters in agony! We were doin' just fine before those shits came here and made a mess of things. We don't need NCR eggheads wandering around confusin' things."

The Courier's brow furrowed. If he didn't know better, Boone could've sworn she was getting angry. "You need to stop supplying Bill and Jacob!"

"Really? Aw, you're such a saint. Ya know, I might be willing to stop... if there was something in it for me."

To Boone's relief, the Courier smiled. He could tell. She had an idea. "Ah, I see. So the NCR is supplying you with cheap chems? You know, to keep Freeside down?"

"Wait, man! You can't go around sayin' shit like that! Okay, I get your point. You won't have to worry about me supplyin' those two anymore."

"Ah! Great!"

"Can I shoot this guy?" Boone asked.

The Courier looked tempted, making Dixon nervous. "Nah. He's not worth your bullets, Boone." The drug dealer gave a sigh of relief.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Operation complete. Thank you for your business."

Veronica and Neiila re-entered the room, looking highly uncomfortable as Cass was pulling her tattered jeans back on. "Well that was... different."

"Are you uncomfortable? My servos may require adjustment."

"You okay, Cass?" the scribe asked.

"Well, I can't feel my legs, but otherwise I'm fine."

"Numbness will subside in several minutes. Awaiting further orders."

"Head to the Atomic Wrangler. James Garret is your new owner, Fisto." Neiila told the robot.

"Yes, ma'am."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

They tracked down Jacob Hoff again, finding him right where they left him.

"So you're back. Got any chems for me yet?"

"No, Mr. Hoff, sir. I took care of the dealer. You can clean up now."

"What? I need a fix now!"

Her hands clenched into fists. "I want to help you get well, Mr. Hoff!"

"Fine. If you really care so much, then give me some shots of Fixer to... calm down these shakes. I'm gonna need at least ten shots to get me through the week. From there the Followers should be able to help."

"Mr. Hoff, be strong." She took his hand, smiling at him. "You just need the support of your friends to get through this."

Boone was surprised to see Jacob Hoff nearly melt at her tender touch. "I think you're right. I've been through worse. I'll go to the fort and see if the Followers can watch over me while I recover.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The moment they exited Cerulean Robotics, they were greeted by four old women in pink pre-war spring dresses, wielding rolling pins.

"Looky what we got here, ladies! Another unsuspecting ponce!"

The four old ladies attacked, leaving Cass and Neiila to shoot them down, while Veronica ran up and pounded one into the pavement. With the four old ladies dead, Veronica, Cass, and Neiila looked to each other, sharing unsure expressions.

"I won't tell anyone if you won't."

"Deal."

"Yeah, let's never speak of this again."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Bill Ronte was also right where they saw him last.

"Come on, man. I'm dyin' here."

The Courier bit her lip. It pained her to see a man like this... "Um... You... won't be seeing Dixon anymore."

"What the hell? Why? I need alcohol, man! I'm gonna die if I don't get a drink!"

"But... Mr. Hoff, Doctor Farkas, and the rest of your friends miss you. They need your help, Mr. Ronte."

He lowered his head, the realization hitting him. "Oh, Julie... I've really screwed things up. I'll head over to the fort and get some rest. This has gone on too long." He got up to head for the fort.

Boone whistled. "Honestly, I'm impressed, kid."

A blush spread across the Courier's face. "Oh, I... I didn't do anything special."

"If you say so. But no one else I know could get two addicts to kick the habit and go back to being productive members of society. C'mon. The Atomic Wrangler is just down the street. We need to pay the Garrets."

"Um... R-Right, Boone." She followed after him, Edy close behind.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Cass, Veronica, and Neiila stepped into the Atomic Wrangler, heading for the bar where James Garret was.

"Hey, you're back!" he greeted.

"Well, we found you an escort who's a ghoul _and_ a cowboy."

"Imagine that! What's her name and when's she start?"

"Her name's Beatrix, and she can start immediately." Veronica explained.

"Great! The customer who made that request'll be overjoyed!"

"Think that's good? You wanted a smooth talker? We found one."

"And who would that be?"

"Santiago's your man!" Neiila chirped.

"That honey-mouthed sonofabitch? Fine. At least he'll have to shut up occasionally. Those pretty lips of his are gonna see more traffic than a brahmin trail in low summer."

"Not only that, we found the sexbot you were looking for! Yay for us!" Neiila cheered.

"You did? Hot damn! I've been looking for one of those for years!" Cass, Veronica, and Neiila each raised an eyebrow. "For my customers, I mean... I'm not into that kinda shit."

Cass smirked. Veronica leaned in closer. "Thing is, Fisto's a _heavy-duty_ piece of equipment. Built to last..."

"You're right, you're right! Something like this, it's worth a little extra because it's going to keep on satisfying you." Cass looked to Veronica again, impressed, making the scribe blush. James Garret coughed. "Uh, those disgusting fetishists, I mean. Something wrong with someone if they gotta fuck a machine."

Neiila giggled. "Fisto is already programmed to respond your commands, too!"

"It is? It will? My god! Imagine the possibilities! It didn't happen to come with an owner's manual, did it? Aw, forget it. Trial and error should do it." Neiila giggled again, Cass smirked, and Veronica glanced about nervously. "Looks like that gives us a full roster of new ass to sell. Good work. Enjoy a bonus."

He paid them quite a large sum of caps. It was then that the door opened, the Courier, Boone, and Edy walking in. The Courier went to take a seat at the bar in front of Francine Garret, handing her three bags of bottlecaps.

"I think I have all of the debts collected, Miss Garret, ma'am." the Courier told her.

"I don't care how you handled those lumps of human refuse, but you got the job done. But we need you to hunt down another person. That son of a bitch McCaffery stole a ton a caps and ran off to Vegas. I guess the fact that we farmed out his usual work to you pissed him off. _No one_ steals from the Garret Twins! If you can kill that bastard and bring back as much as you can, you'll be paid very well."

"Um... If I see Mr. McCaffery on the Strip, I'll see what I can do."

"Good. Just stop on back when he's dead and you'll be rewarded handsomely. Bring his hat as proof of the kill."

Cass, Veronica, and Neiila walked up. "Hey, Courier. Your job done?"

The Courier sighed. "Apparently not. We already have two errands for when we reach the Strip."

"Here ya go. Five thousand caps."

Rocket walked up, tossing Cass a bag of bottlecaps. The Courier's eye widened. "S-Seriously? You won five thousand caps, Rocket?"

"Seems I did. I would've gotten some free booze of all kinds with it, but they said they couldn't give alcohol to a kid, even if I was a ghoul."

"Wow, that's amazing, Rocket!"

"No need to thank me. Just provin' myself to the group."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Doctor Farkas!" The Courier ran up to the administrator of the Old Mormon Fort, stopping to catch her breath. "Guess what! We got Bill Ronte and Jacob Hoff back!"

"I saw them. Thank you so much for helping them. This means a lot to the Followers of the Apocalypse. You have our thanks. Not only that, your robobrain and ghoul friends are amazing at what they do! I have to thank you for loaning them to us, as well. If you need medical supplies, we should be able to spare a stim or dose a day with Jacob working with us."

"Thanks so much! We also found a steady supplier for you!"

"That's phenomenal! Who did you find?"

"Um... The Garret Twins."

The administrator crossed her arms. "They supply Freeside with drugs and liquor. From my point of view, they're just better-organized pushers. Upgrading their stills would increase their supply of liquor and chems. How does that help Freeside?"

"Um... They just need tech support and raw materials. You get your chems and can help anyone who gets addicted. Plus, with a surplus of supplies, you can use your caps and influence to expand!"

"Good point. We wouldn't be paying anything for their supplies. Just a portion of our food waste to make ethanol. We get food from nearby wasteland farmers in exchange for medical services, so we could put our caps back into helping Freeside. Tell the Garrets we'll keep their stills running if they provide us with supplies. Thank you for arranging this. You've been a godsend. In fact, I would like to extend an invitation to join the Followers of the Apocalypse! Your work here in the Old Mormon Fort has been invaluable, and I can't think of a more worthy recruit. Will you join us?"

The Courier nearly bounced up and down in excitement. Boone and Cass chuckled. She really was just a kid. "Yes! Yes, of course! Thank you so much, Doctor Farkas!"

"Excellent! The Followers' mission will be better served with someone like yourself traveling around the Mojave. Wait right here a moment, please." Julie left, heading inside one of the corner buildings, returning with something behind her back. "As a representative of the Followers, I hereby present you with your very own lab coat. Wear it well, and may it aid our cause."

Stars lit up in the Courier's eyes as she gazed at the lab coat. "Thanks so much, Doctor Farkas! This is amazing!"

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The Courier left and made her way down the street, when she noticed a man gesturing for her to come closer. She pointed to herself, and he nodded. She followed him into the alley, passing two more men before coming upon a dead body lying between two dumpsters.

"Um... Who's that?" the Courier nervously asked.

"The last guy to follow me down this alley. Get her, boys!"

The Courier jumped in and knocked one of the three men down with a left, right, knee combo, but the second grabbed her arms and restrained her. The third pulled a chef knife out of his pocket, licking it with a wild look in his eyes. A searing pain spread from the Courier's midsection, and when she looked she had been stabbed in the stomach. With delighted glee, he cut along her abdomen, but stopped when a gunshot fired. The man with the knife fell to the ground, the second one falling after another gunshot. As the Courier lay there, her vision clouding, she looked to see a man in a red First Recon beret walking up to her, reloading a sniper rifle.

"Boone?"

"Yeah, kid. You shouldn't run off alone like that." The sniper told her, picking her up in his arms and carrying her. She felt like a princess, rescued by her knight. Despite the pain, she gave a sigh of content, nestling into the sniper's arms.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

She jolted awake, only to feel a sharp pain in her abdomen. She looked, and saw she had been bandaged up, topless but not completely naked for once, and was sitting in a bed in a tent, presumably at the Old Mormon Fort. Sighing, she leaned back in the bed and tried to go over the events that led her here. Let's see... she had followed a man into an alley... Oh! Boone saved her! Like... Like her own personal knight... She blushed.

"Oh, good. You're awake." The Courier looked up to see a woman walk in, dressed in a Followers lab coat and carrying a clipboard. She hastily pulled the covers up over her bare breasts, blushing. The woman sat down on a chair next to the Courier's bed, reaching a hand out to shake. "Hi! I'm Doctor Carla Garrison. Your NCR friend brought you in, so I did a quick treatment. Luckily your wound wasn't too deep. Are you in pain?"

The woman was smiling warmly at her. She felt herself be put at ease. "Um... A little."

"Oh, then a quick dose of Med-X should do the trick."

"No, it's okay. I know the Followers' supplies are scarce..."

The woman smiled. "Ah, you must be the little Courier who recently joined our group. To be honest, I'm not a member yet myself. Just a freelance doctor. Oh! Are you hungry?"

"Um... A little."

"I'll go make you some squirrel stew, then. Be right back!"

The woman left, leaving the Courier to her thoughts. Wait... Wasn't Boone's wife named Carla? Huh. She didn't think it was that common a name. Well... it couldn't be her. From the photo she saw in Boone's pack, Carla Boone was African-American. This Carla Garrison was Caucasian, and blonde to boot. She was pretty, and definitely seemed like she cared about her patients.

"I'm back!" the doctor called, walking in with a tray that had a steaming bowl sitting on it. "Need me to feed you, sweetie?"

"Um... N-No thanks, I can do that myself. But thanks for um... offering."

"No, it's no trouble at all! Here, have a bite." The doctor dipped the spoon in the bowl, holding it up to the Courier's mouth. She allowed the stew to enter, but before she could swallow a shot of plasma sent t he spoon flying, along with gooifying the doctor's hand with a scream of pain. The Courier whirled around to see a blonde man in a Followers lab coat standing there with a plasma defender.

"Spit that out. There's poison in it." The Courier did so.

"What? But... Poison? From who?"

"Carla Garrison. You think I haven't heard of you?" The man explained, directing the latter to the woman who was now clutching the goo-dripping stump of her wrist. She only growled. "I don't know what you're talking about, you psychopath!"

"Cut the act. You think I don't know what you've been doing? We've lost five patients since you signed on here, all of them under your tender care, and all killed through some kind of treatment mistake or medicine mix-up. You're the Nightingale, the doctor from the NCR who murders her patients."

"You... You have no proof!"

"Yes, I do. I tested your last patient. You said the use of Psycho was a mistake, but I don't see how it could've been considering he had so much Psycho in him he was close to bursting."

Growling, the woman grabbed a scalpel, holding it up to the Courier's throat. "Take another step and I slit her throat! I mean i-"

She was silenced with a head butt from the Courier, sending her stumbling to the ground. When she got to her feet, she made a mad dash for the door to the tent, the man with the plasma defender stepping aside to let her pass.

"You're... You're going to just let her go?" The Courier asked.

"Of course. She won't get very far with one hand. Besides, you need my attention more."

The man walked into the tent, holstering his plasma defender, and grabbed a towel to clean the spilled stew off her chest. The Courier, not realizing she had dropped the blanket, shrieked and ducked her head down, arms across her hefty breasts.

"It's okay. I'm a doctor, you know. Arcade Gannon." The Courier said nothing, just blushing and clenching her eyes shut. "Hey, it's not like it's anything I'm interested in anyway." The Courier opened an eye, peering at him. "Um... Legs man, then?"

"Nope."

"Ass man?"

"No."

"Then..."

"Penis man."

"You mean?"

"Yes."

"Confirmed bachelor?"

"If you want to use that term, sure."

The Courier sighed, standing up right to let the blonde doctor help clean her up.

"You may not know it, but I've been watching you. You've done a lot of good not just for the Followers, but for Freeside as a whole as well. I noticed you have a mechanic, a scientist, a merchant, a scribe, and a sniper. But do you have a doctor on your team?"

The Courier sighed. "No. We could use one, though. I've had to make due with copies of Today's Physician ."

"Well, you're in luck then. You're an official member of the Followers of the Apocalypse now, and Julie wants me to accompany you to make sure you don't die in your endeavors."

"Wait, really?"

"Yes. So in case you forgot, I'm Arcade Gannon." He offered a hand, tossing the dirty towel into a hamper basket.

The Courier shook it. "I'm the Courier."

"Is that really your name? Because that's what everyone around town has been calling you."

"I have amnesia."

"Really? How'd you get that?"

The Courier sighed. "Um... It's a long story..."

"I've got time. We're going to be traveling together, so why don't you tell me all about it?"

The Courier smiled. "Of course. Thank you, Doctor Gannon."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Author's Notes:

**1.** There's an actual gang in my area of the United States called the Kings. Rather than focusing on freedom and independence through Elvis, they focus on Latino blood equaling royalty and superiority. They're sometimes called the 'Latino Kings" as a more specific name. I sometimes get mistaken for a King member's bitch because of the Kingdom Hearts crown necklace I wear. Yes, their symbol is a stylized crown.

**2.** Carla Garrison belongs to Chris the Cat, used with permission.


	9. Chapter 8: Jailhouse Rock

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Fallout. Fallout belongs to Bethesda, who purchased the rights from Black Isle.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Fallout:** New Vegas

Unknown Origins

By _Cyberweasel89_

**Chapter 8:** Jailhouse Rock

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The group made their way to the Atomic Wrangler for a room for the night. That morning, they enjoyed a breakfast as they got to know their newest companion.

"So, Doctor Gannon... Tell us a little about yourself, please?" The Courier asked between a mouthful of bacon and eggs.

"I'm really very boring. You'd get better stories out of a Freeside junkie."

"Doctor Gannon, I'm asking because I'm interested. Don't put yourself down."

"Oh, all right. I'm thirty-ish. Well, late thirties. I was born... west of here. I was an only child and spent most of my time with my mother. My father died when I was young and I never got over it. Oh... and I like medicine and reading books about failed Pre-War socioeconomic policies. Right now, I'm sure you're asking yourself... 'Why hasn't some lucky man scooped this bachelor off his feet?'... Like I said, I'm boring."

"I'll say." Boone muttered.

"Boone! How many times do I have to tell you to be nice?" She turned back to Arcade. "Why don't you like talking about yourself, Doctor Gannon?"

"Some people do. I just... don't. Look, I appreciate that you're trying to be friendly, but I'd just rather not discuss it."

"Okay, um... How did you end up joining the Followers of the Apocalypse?"

"Honestly, it isn't too difficult if you have half a brain and aren't a complete jerk. I wanted to help people, and I enjoyed learning, so I signed up. New Vegas is in trouble, so I came out here. If someone doesn't step up and try to help the people here, it's going to end very badly."

"So... where did you get your medical training?"

"The Followers taught me everything I know about medicine. Despite our humble abode here in New Vegas, we have great facilities back in the NCR. We may have overextended ourselves by setting up camp in Freeside, but the people here need help from someone. If not us, who?

"Do you always deflect personal questions, buddy?" Rocket asked between bites of her cereal.

"Only to obfuscate my past association with a fascist paramilitary organization. I'm joking, of course. I will deflect personal questions at any opportunity."

The Courier finished her breakfast and stood up from the table. "Um... I'm going to the Silver Rush. Need to pick up microfusion cells and small energy cells. And maybe the Van Graffs will have work for me."

"Need someone to come with, Boss?" Raul asked.

"No, it's just down the street. I'll be fine. But thank you."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The guard at the entrance patted her down for weapons, and ended up searching her pretty thoroughly when he found she didn't have any on her aside from her boxing tape. She nearly fainted in embarrassment when he searched her breasts. He claimed some women hid pistols in their cleavage, but she honestly thought he just wanted to cop a feel. She was allowed to wear her boxing tape in, and entered to find more guards blocking the way further in.

"The bosses are having a meeting. You'll have to wait until it's over." She looked through the cage fence where four people were standing, two in suits, one woman in leather, and a man in combat armor holding a laser rifle.

"Mr. Soren, please get to the point. The second half of your payment is late and I want to know why." the woman in leather stated.

"Ms. Van Graff, my associates and I have decided that we wish to renegotiate the terms of our deal." The first man in the suit explained.

"Might I ask for what reason? The shipment was delivered. The guns were tested before leaving this facility."

"Regardless, we feel that the quality of the weapons is below expectation, and hope to adjust the price accordingly."

"Ah, I think I understand what the issue is here. Excuse me for a moment, would you?" She turned to the man with the laser rifle nearby. "Do it." He fired at the second man in a suit, killing him. "Never break faith with the Van Graffs, Mr. Soren. I expect you'll have the rest of our payment ready tomorrow morning." Mr. Soren quickly turned tail and ran from the building. "Okay, everyone. Show's over. Get back to work."

The guards scattered back to their posts, leaving the Courier to walk around the cage and up to the counter, treading extremely lightly.

"Welcome to the Silver Rush, where only top of the line energy weapons can be found. What can I do for you?"

"Um... I need some microfusion cells and some small energy cells, please."

"Of course. How many?"

"Just a box of each is fine, please."

"Sure. Let me get that for you."

The woman turned around to grab the products. The Courier took this chance to talk her up a bit. "Um... So is this a family business?"

"Yes it is. My brother and I run this particular branch, but our family has operations all over, particularly in California."

"Hm... Um... This seems like a bad neighborhood to open a store."

"Look around, and you'll notice two things. First, we don't lack for security. I'm not worried about anyone breaking in here or stealing our goods. Not that we don't occasionally have attempts, but even those prove useful. Do you know how much target dummies cost?"

The Courier swallowed hard.

"Back to my point, the second thing you'll notice is that we do not sell cheap merchandise. Everything here is second-to-none. People who buy Van Graff goods typically don't care where they have to go to get them."

"I guess I get it. Um... C-Can you tell me a little about yourself?"

"Oh, there's not much to tell. I'm Gloria Van Graff. I was born in a big family and don't get along with my parents, so here I am. As far away from them as possible."

"Okay, um... I was wondering if there was anything I could do to help out around here, Ms. Van Graff."

"You mean if we have work available? It just so happens a position opened up recently. We currently need another body to guard the entrance outside. Think you can handle that?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'd love to help."

"Wonderful. I already have a man outside who can show you the ropes and get you set up. His name is Simon. He's been with the family for years, so listen to what he says, and follow his instructions."

The Courier crossed her arms over her breasts defensively. "You mean... Th-The man who groped my breasts?"

Gloria's eye's glanced down to the Courier's hefty bosom. "Ah. Nice to see Simon is doing his job. My apologies, but he is under direct orders from me to make sure no buxom women are hiding pistols or explosives in their cleavage. I learned that lesson quite well."

Sighing, the Courier trudged outside to meet with the guard.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Thanks for coming to the Silv- Aw, crap. Don't tell me you're my new guard."

"Um... H-How did you know?"

"You can always tell a rookie. You look too eager. Give the job a few hours, and the shine'll come right off. You'll be coverin' the other side of the door there. Take your position while I get your stuff out."

Sighing, the Courier went to stand on the opposite side of the door, while Simon rummaged around in a nearby weapon trunk.

"Good. Look around and get a feel for where customers and risks can enter and exit an area. I'll get your gear ready." He got up and walked over, carrying a garment in his arms.

"Okay, now let's get you geared up. First, your armor." He handed it to her, but she just stared. "Well? Aren't you gonna put it on?"

"Um... C-Could you look away, please?"

Sighing, the Van Graff guard turned to face the other way as the Courier pulled the armor on. "Standard issue is your run-of-the-mill combat armor, with a nice dark coat of paint for both brand recognition and sheer intimidation value. Next, your weapon." He walked over to the weapons crate, rummaging around in it. "Guards are required to use rifles. Anything lighter comprises your combat effectiveness. Anything heavier and people are too scared to come in the door. What's your preference? Laser or plasma?"

"Um... What's the difference?" She was surprised with how well the armor fit. She didn't think there was any armor suited for her short stature and ridiculous breasts.

"Lasers have a high rate of fire, but not a lot of stopping power. Plasma on the other hand is slow as a mule, but with a kick to match. So, what'll it be?"

"Um... I'll take laser."

"Good choice. I prefer laser-based weapons myself, but the boss lady says she wants at least one guard using a plasma rifle." The Courier blushed as he returned and handed her a laser rifle, when she held awkwardly. "Says the lightning bits draw in more people. Whatever. Now that you're equipped, a quick word on the job at hand." She listened intently. "In a nutshell, we're here to keep the riff-raff away. Drunks, punks, and capless vermin are to be turned away. Potential customers are to be permitted normal entrance. That is, after we pat them down for weapons. An unarmed man is a lot less likely to try to steal something with several armed guards around. Don't start any fights. I don't care if some Jet junkie just insulted your mother. We're here to promote violence elsewhere, not start it here. Lastly, _don't_ abandon your post. We're getting paid to stand next to this door, not talk to someone down the street or head to the casino. That goes double for any thoughts of splitting with that gear. Every now and then some young punk thinks he can run off with Van Graff property. Trust me, the rifle and armor are nice, but they're not worth your life. Other than that, relax. Who knows, you might attract a high roller from the Wrangler over there and never have to pull a gig like this again."

The Courier stood at attention on her side of the door, drawing her laser rifle and holding it as ease like Simon was doing. "Settle in. We've got some hours left before the shift ends."

The Courier let her thoughts wander as she stood at attention. But she tried not to let them wander too much. After all, she had a job to do.

"Here comes a winner. I'll let you handle this one."

Sure enough, a man in rags was walking up to the door. Or rather, staggering up to the door. "Hi there. Is this where I can pick up a... laser gun?" His slurred speech obviously meant he was drunk.

"Um... Sorry, sir, but I can't let you in. C-Company policy."

The drunkard crossed his arms. "Sounds like a stupid policy to me." Still, he turned and walked off.

"Good. Stick to the rules." Simon complimented. The Courier blushed.

About an hour later, Simon spoke up again. "Another one comin'. You're on." It seemed there was a man in a nice brown suit approaching. "Uh, hi. I was um... in the area and thought I'd stop in to look at your weapons. Can I go in?" He asked.

"Um... We're going to have to search you first, sir."

"Fine by me."

The Courier blushed at the idea of what she was about to do, but thankfully Simon took pity on her and searched the man for her. "He's clean." They allowed the man in. "See? Not so hard, is it?"

The Courier noted the man left half an hour later with a shiny new laser pistol and a box of energy cells for it. He looked satisfied with his purchase. About an hour after that, Simon spoke up again."Heads up. Looks like we've got another customer."

Sure enough, a man was approaching in a dark brown suit and hat, walking out of the Atomic Wrangler. "Howdy!" he greeted. "I just done broke the bank at the Wrangler there and thought I might peruse your fine wares, maybe lighten my purse a little."

"Um... C-Certainly sir. B-But we'll need to pat you down for weapons first."

"Now hold on here, I'm not packing any heat. Ain't my word good enough for you?"

"Um... I'm sure you're a man of your word, sir, but we s-still need to pat you down. N-No exceptions."

"I suppose it's all right, if there's no other choice."

Again, Simon did it for her. She'd have to thank him later. "He's clean."

"See? Told you so."

The man left about an hour later with a big plasma rifle, though no ammo for it. The Courier idly wondered about that. It was just as he was out of sight that Simon spoke again. "Looks like that guy's headin' this way. Don't screw it up."

Sure enough, there was a man in a big coat approaching. She found the big coat a little suspicious... Either he planned to smuggle something out, or was smuggling something in. She'd have to be careful. "Hey. Lookin' for somethin' to replace my old revolver. Mind if I head in?" he asked.

"Um... S-Sorry, but we're going to have to search you first, s-sir."

"That's not really necessary, is it? I already told you I got this here revolver, right?"

"Um... I-It's company policy, sir. We... We need to search all customers."

The man looked nervous. "Damn, I knew this wasn't gonna work!" He pulled his revolver, and the Courier panicked.

"Stop him!" He was soon blasted with Simon's plasma rifle, melting his arm and head clean off. The Courier let out a sigh of relief. "What in the hell do you suppose that was about?" the guard wondered. He walked over to where the man lay dead. "Help me clean this up. No one's going to want to shop here with a corpse out front."

Surprisingly, she found a block of C-4 on him, which Simon quickly confiscated, and she also found a note explaining that he was going to bomb the store as revenge against the Van Graffs for what they did to his family. She felt a bit bad for him, but revenge is never the answer. She helped Simon drag his corpse to the nearby dumpster.

It was about two hours later that Simon spoke again. "Crap. This I do not need today. Keep your head straight, rookie. Things are about to get interesting."

A young man walked up, dressed in a dark jacket and horizontally striped shirt. He looked like one of the Kings. "Hey, Simon. How's it hangin'? Looks like you've got a little helper today."

"Hey, Pacer. What can I say? Business has been good lately. We can afford the help." The guard responded. They seemed to know each other.

"Good to hear, buddy. So is the boss lady in?"

"You know she is. Why don't you go in and say hi?" Simon asked. It almost sounded like he was daring him.

"Nah, I've got some rounds to run. But do pass along that I'm _always_ thinkin' of her. Actually, I've got a better idea. Make the new hire tell her. You'll do that for me, won't you?"

She couldn't help but feel a little creeped out by this... Pacer. "Um... I'll... I'll be sure to pass it along." She told him, too unnerved to smile.

"That's a good dog. Well, I'm outta here. Later, Simon." He turned to walk away. The Courier let out a sigh or relief.

"Way to keep your head, rookie. There's hope for you yet." The Courier blushed.

"It's just about closin' time. Let's go see the boss about gettin' paid. Oh, I'm gonna need the rifle and armor back. Boss's orders."

The Courier giggled, slipping out of the armor and handing it right to Simon, unashamed. He was a bit stunned at first. "Um... Mr. Simon, sir?" She clasped her hands together in front of her thighs, blushing. "I just wanted to thank you for... for saving me from that bomber, and… and for doing the frisking for me. I don't think I could've handled it."

"Uh... Yeah, sure, it's no problem. I just figured, you're new and all, so-" He was silenced when she stepped onto the weapons trunk and kissed him on the cheek. He stood there speechless as she got dressed and headed inside. Simon followed soon after.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

She waited for Simon to finish talking to Gloria Van Graff before approaching. When he walked away, she walked up to the counter, Simon patting her on the shoulder when they passed. She gave him a small smile as a light blush crept to her cheeks.

"Simon's been telling me how it went. Let's do a quick recap." Gloria began. "You kept away the undesirables, patted down the rest for weapons, and kept your cool. That is to say, you performed as instructed. Simon was impressed, and so am I. So you get a small bonus with your normal pay." She handed the Courier more than a handful of bottlecaps. She happily pocketed them. "Unfortunately, I found someone else with a little more experience, and he'll take over the position starting tomorrow. However, another task has come up that I could use some help with. Assuming you're still interested in making money?"

The Courier smiled. "I'm interested in helping out, yes."

"Good. There's a deal we've been working on for a while now, and the buyer would like a sample of our weapons. I need you to run a package to a discrete location that the client has chosen. Sound good?"

The Courier nodded. "Of course! I'll do it."

"Excellent. Here's the package. I'll mark the location on your map." The Courier showed Gloria her Pip-Boy, which she marked with a few simple button pushes. "The buyer said they'd be in town for quite a while, so there's no rush. That said, try not to dawdle. This client could mean big money for us, which naturally means big money for you."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

She found the man right where her map marker indicated.

"Are you the Van Graffs emissary?" he asked.

"Um... I am, sir."

"Do you have what we requested?"

"Uh... Who is we?"

"We were told there would be no questions. Do you have what we requested or not?"

"Um... It's right here, sir." She set her pack down on the ground and removed the package, handing it to him.

"Ah. Then our business is concluded. Tell your superiors that we will contact them shortly."

Okay, that man was... strange. She felt a shiver run up her spine as she walked away.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Welcome back. Did you have news for me, or are you just here for the guns?"

"Um... I delivered the package like you requested, Ms. Van Graff, ma'am."

"And? Don't leave me in suspense. What was their reaction?"

"Um... He seemed pleased, and said he'd be in touch."

"Good... Good. Here's your payment. If you'll excuse me, I have some thinking to do. Come see me again tomorrow." She paid her a handful of bottlecaps.

"Th-Thank you, ma'am."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Hey, you're the one who's been goin' around helpin' people around here, right? The King says to keep up the good work, and said to give you this." The Kings member handed her a box of Cheezy Poofs before running off.

"I wonder what's going on?" The courier wondered. "So far, the Kings have given me spare ammo, food, and some caps several times, all saying they're from the King."

"Evidently..." Arcade began. "The King has taken an interest in you and all the things you've been doing around Freeside."

"Hm... I think we should pay him a visit. Where is he?"

"Huh? Well, if you really want to see him, the base of operations for the entire Kings gang is the King's School of Impersonation. There's a big neon sign on the building, as if all the Kings congregating around it wasn't enough hint. Why? What do you plan to do when you meet the King?"

"Well, first, I need to thank him for these gifts. Then, I need to see if there's any way I can help him directly."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

When they arrived at the King's School of Impersonation, the Courier stopped everyone at the door. "Hang on. We're a big group. I'm going in alone. I don't want anyone to freak out when they see us enter. I'll be less threatening by myself." The Courier explained.

"You shouldn't go in without protection." Boone explained.

The Courier sighed. "Fine. I guess I'll take Edy. They'll probably think she's my pet robot or something."

After the Courier and Edy had entered the building, Rocket turned to the group and sighed. "Man, this charity work sucks. Sure, we usually get paid, but it's real bitch work."

"Hey, what the Boss says, goes." Raul pointed out to the ghoul child.

"And who made her boss of us?" was Rocket's response.

Cass was about to answer... but paused. "Actually... that's a very good question."

"It's weird..." Veronica began. "But when the Courier tells me to do something, it's like I feel compelled to do it."

"Yeah! She totally asks nicely, but it's like it's an order I can't refuse." Neiila commented.

"I admit... Not even my old commanding officers from First Recon could order me around like this. And she's not even really ordering me. She always asks."

"It's almost like she has that fire that makes anyone willing to follow her into the depths of hell itself. I've seen some of it in some of the higher-ups of the Brotherhood, but not even Father Elijah had it as strong as the Courier does."

"Hm... If I didn't know better, I'd say she was a natural-born leader." Cass mused.

"Skynet finds this discussion worthy of cataloguing. The human is a strange one, indeed."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

She entered to find some kind of reception area, which had been turned into a makeshift bar. A Kings member was wiping down the counter, while another stood at it with a drink. She stepped over to a closed door guarded by a King in a leather jacket and horizontally striped shirt. He stopped her before she could reach for the handle.

"What do we have here? Another petitioner for the King?" Oh, crap... It's that King who approached the Silver Rush with a message for Gloria Van Graff! What was his name again? Pacer?

"Um... H-Hi. Uh... I'd like to see the King, if possible, sir." She stammered, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze. No wonder he hadn't recognized her face yet. His eyes were locked on her cleavage.

"Hm... Anything's possible, I suppose. How much is it worth to you to meet the big man?"

"Um... Five caps?"

"What do I look like, a beggar to you? Take a hike, cheapskate."

She flinched. "Uh... Fifty caps?"

"Hm... Now you're gettin' somewhere."

"Um... Five hundred?"

"Whoa! I mean, yeah, that should do. The King will see you now." She handed him the caps, watching as he unlocked the door with a key and allowed her to pass. "Head on through. He's the bored-lookin' guy by the stage. Can't fuckin' miss him."

She walked in, nearly jumping ten feet in the air when a hand grabbed and squeezed her ass. She whirled around to see Pacer withdrawing his hand, whistling and looking nonchalant. Sighing, she stepped further into the room to find it full of tables and chairs, centered on a stage where a member of the Kings seemed to be performing a song. She guessed the man in the nice white suit near the front of the stage was the King, though her attention was drawn to the cyberdog sitting by his side. She walked up and took a seat in the chair next to the man, Edy hovering nearby. She watched the Kings member's performance and waited for him to finish before she spoke, but the man turned to face her first when the Kings member stepped down from the stage.

"Look, Rexie. Someone new's come to see us. Poor boy. He hasn't been feelin' well lately. I'm the King. What can I do for you?"

She was surprised with how... pleasant he was. "I'm the Courier. Um... When the Kings member by the door charged me to enter, I thought you'd be more... Well, not as friendly, Mr. King, sir."

"Charged? Ha ha! Pace must be at it again. What did he take you for?"

She was surprised. Here he was, willing to pay her back for what she paid Pacer. A blush crept to her face as she shook her head. "Um... N-No, it's fine, Mr. King, sir. You don't have to worry about it."

"You're modest. I respect that." Her blush deepened. She felt herself smiling. "So... what can I do for you?"

"Well... um..." she fidgeted nervously with her hands, directed her gaze down at the table. "First I... wanted to thank you for all the little gifts you've been sending to me."

"Aw, don't mention it. I've heard stories of what you've been doin' around town. Figure someone who goes around doin' what you do needs somethin' more than the satisfaction of helpin' folks."

Her blush deepened, if that was possible. "Thank you, sir. Um... I was wondering if there was anything you needed help with. I'd... I'd be willing to offer my services, sir."

"Maybe so. Maybe so. You look like you might be able to handle yourself. Tell you what. You do me a favor, and I'll have some more work for you when it's done. Sound good?"

She nodded. "Of course, sir. What do you need me to do?"

"I'll start ya off with somethin' easy. Did you notice the bodyguards for hire near the gates when you entered Freeside?"

"Um... Yes. One was a Kings member who I paid for directions."

"Ha! Paid for directions? How much?"

She blushed again. He was planning to pay her back again, wasn't he? "Um... No, it's not worth mentioning."

"Hm... If you say so. Anyway, it's good money if you can stay alive long enough. Freeside's not as safe as it used to be, so the money is well earned. Usually well earned, that is. Recently my men tell me that one of those bodyguards, a fella named Orris, is makin' a little too much money. He's makin' a killin' in repeat business. Once someone hires him, they never want anyone else. I want you to find out why. Specifically, I want you to hire him. Play the part of an innocent tourist, and follow his lead. If nothing happens, so be it. But I'm guessin' things won't go so smoothly. Call it a hunch. So, what do you say?"

She smiled. "Of course, Mr. King, sir. I'd be happy to."

"Okay, then. Once you part ways, return here. I'll look forward to hearin' your report. Oh, and take this to cover the hirin' cost." He reached into his pocket and handed her a handful of caps. The Courier's eye went wide. He was actually giving her the money to pay Orris with? Wow.

"Um... Th-Thank you, sir. I'll be back soon."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

She discussed it with her companions, and Cass suggested she dress the part of the tourist. They stopped by a clothing store for a pink Pre-War spring dress. The Courier admitted, it felt breezy to wear it compared to her stuffy prospector dress, but it didn't offer any more coverage for her breasts than the other one did. They exited Freeside out the east gate, then looped around to the north gate, the Courier getting changed while her companions acted as human shields. Boone suggested he keep an eye on her from atop one of the buildings in case she needed help, which the Courier reluctantly agreed to. When she stepped through the north gate into Freeside, some nearby men whistled at her. To her embarrassment, a breeze flew by, throwing her skirt up and exposing her bare ass and nethers to them. She pushed the garment down, cursing that the skirt was shorter and lighter than the one on her prospector dress. Her face beet red, she approached the man in the metal armor who she was told was Orris. She noted the man did not take his eyes off her heavily exposed cleavage.

"If you need to cross Freeside, no one will keep you safer than I will."

She had to make herself seem like an innocent tourist. "Um... Why would I need a bodyguard crossing Freeside, sir?"

"Just look around. People here are as like to stab you as say hello. That is, if _I_ weren't at your side."

"Um... How much for your services, sir?"

"Two hundred caps gets ya my watchful eye for a trip to the south gate."

That was twice as much as what the other bodyguards were charging, but the King paid her that same amount for this job. She handed the man the caps, who pocketed them and ushered her down the street, a gentle hand on the curve of her back.

"Now, I want to mention a few things up front. In order to ensure your safety, I need you to follow my instructions to the letter. We'll be heading down the main street here the whole way down. No detours. You go off sightseeing, and I go off to find another customer. I normally keep a brisk pace, but for you?" He rubbed her back suggestively. "I'm willing to go slow."

She blushed, despite herself. "Um... Th-Thank you, Mr. Orris, sir."

A hand still on her back, he led her down the street at a leisurely pace. "To your left here is the Old Mormon Fort. If you get roughed up, the Followers there will patch you right up. Not that I ever need their services."

They passed the little boy who was a crier for Mick and Ralph's, nearing the King's School of Impersonation up ahead. "Up ahead on the next block is where the Kings hang out. Don't let them scare you. They don't outnumber you five to one, you'll be fine."

They passed the Kings base, heading further down the street. "Down to the right here is the fun part of town. You haven't seen Freeside 'till you've been to the Wrangler."

He stopped her just as they reached the next intersection. "Hey, hold up. I don't like the look of some of those men ahead. Let's take a different way around."

Sure enough, there were four men up ahead, just standing there. "Um... I-If you say so, Mr. Orris, sir."

He led her to the left down a side road. It was fine until they made their second left turn, where Orris let go of her and ran ahead to meet four men with tire irons and baseball bats. "Gotcha! Thought you could ambush us, huh?" Orris drew his pistol and fired at them, easily felling all four in only three shots. Wait... three? And where was the blood? Orris walked up to her and wrapped his arm around her back, a hand on her hip. The Courier swallowed hard.

"Nothing to worry about. If you had hired one of those other hacks, you'd be up to your ass in lowlife right about now."

"Th-That was amazing, Mr. Orris, sir! There were four men, but you only fired three shots!"

"Er, noticed that, did you? I keenly aimed one of the shots through the soft tissue of one of them to hit the man behind him."

"Oh. And why did you run up ahead like that? Did you sense the danger and run up to protect me?"

"Call it a hunch. You do this job for long enough and you learn to trust your instincts."

The Courier walked over to one of the corpses, prodding it a little. Wait a minute... they weren't dead! They were just faking!

"Something wrong, miss?"

"Um... No, Mr. Orris, sir. I've just... never seen a dead body before."

"Well, hope I didn't traumatize you." He walked up, wrapping his arm around her back again... this time his hand was on her ass! She felt a shiver go up her spine right from the point of contact. They continued down the road and stopped at the entrance to the Strip.

"Well, here we are. No worse for wear, are you? I trust that if you need to cross Freeside again, you'll know who to hire."

"Um... Th-Thank you, Mr. Orris, sir." The Courier turned to leave, but her hand snagged. She immediately found herself pulled into the man's arms.

"What's the rush, baby?"

"Um... I... have to be somewhere..." she mumbled.

"Hey, no hurry. Why don't I show you a good time? We can go check out the Atomic Wrangler, maybe."

Both hands. On her ass cheeks. Bad! Very, very bad!

"Um... Th-That's okay... I need to go m-meet a friend."

Both breasts, squashed against his armor! So bad! So very bad! She already felt the heat rising from her chest, clouding her mind.

"I'm sure she can wait. You can't tell me you didn't feel something between us."

Oh, god! His hand was on her breast! She felt her legs and arms turn to gelatin. Crap, crap, crap!

"OW!"

The man stumbled forward, letting the Courier go, the distinctive sound of a bullet hitting metal resounding. He pulled his pistol and whirled around, scanning the area intensely, and the Courier saw a bullet stuck in the plate of his metal armor. She quickly ran down the street to head into the King's School of Impersonation. It was the closest building where she knew she'd be safe.

Boone... he saved her again. Like her knight in shining armor, saving the princess from a ferocious dragon... Even as she ran, she felt a blush come to her cheeks, and it wasn't just from arousal.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

To say the King was surprised to see her in a Pre-War spring dress was about accurate. Not to mention a deep blush was on her face and she was panting.

"Or... Orris is a fraud! He fakes attacks on his clients and then plays hero! And he..." She gazed down at the ground, ashamed. "He tried to come onto me."

"So that's how it happens... Okay, then. I'll have some guys pull him off the street when no one's lookin'. I'm sorry you had to go through that." He placed a hand on her shoulder, and she felt instantly comforted. She actually managed a small smile. The King patted the chair next to him, which she took a seat on, smoothing out her skirt with her hands. "You've shown me somethin', so maybe you can help me with a matter that's a little more important. A lot of folks around these parts been here awhile and resent the sheer number of people that have come into the area since the Strip was built. In turn the newcomers, most of whom come from the NCR, have gotten ornery from bein' resented. Sometimes things get violent. This is one of those occasions. Recently, a few friends of mine were attacked, and I want you to find out who did it. Word's come that they just woke up over at the Old Mormon Fort just north of here. Head on over and see if they remember anything."

The Courier nodded. "I'll head over right away, Mr. King, sir."

"Good. I like that enthusiasm. Return when you have some information we can use."

"Um... M-Mind if I ask you a few questions, sir?"

"Sure can. What did you want to know?"

"Um... What can you tell me about Freeside?"

"To understand Freeside, you have to look back a few years. Originally, we were all just tribes makin' a livin' in this area. That all changed when Mr. House came around. He made an offer to the three biggest tribes that were willin' to listen to him. Today, everyone calls those tribes the Three Families, and they live in luxury and run their own casinos on the Strip. The rest of us were left to fight over the crumbs, livin' in the shadow of those more fortunate. Things got pretty nasty for a while. But we wanted more. A place of our own. A place where no one could tell us what to do. And we didn't wanna go elsewhere to find it. So we took control of this place, and made it our own. And that's really all Freeside is, the best of a bad situation."

"Wow. So... Who are the important players here in Freeside, Mr. King, sir?"

"There's me, but I don't really like talkin' about myself. There's Julie Farkas and the other Followers down at the ol' Mormon Fort. The Garrett Twins up at the Wrangler deserve mention. Wouldn't be right not mentionin' the Van Graffs, I suppose. And while they're not important in the overall scheme of things, there's Mick and Ralph, too. Just don't... tell them I said that. Who all did you want to know about?"

"Um... Tell me about Julie Farkas, please."

"Julie represents the Followers of the Apocalypse. They're a group that tries to help people out whenever they can, so we get along just fine. If you ever need to get patched up, one of their docs'll have you right as rain in no time flat. They sell supplies, too. Didn't for a while, but now they do again thanks to you."

The Courier blushed. "I try my best, Mr. King, sir. Um... Can you tell me about the Garrett Twins, please?"

"Them twins run the Atomic Wrangler, the only workin' casino here in Freeside. It's become pretty much _the_ place to go around these parts. Give it a whirl when you've got some time."

"Um... I'm not one for gambling, but their food is good. Uh... Oh! What about the Van Graffs?"

"They're a family-run business from out west that deal in weapons, mostly. A word of caution, though. They're not a friendly bunch. Not at all. Their store is just past the Wrangler, and sells all kinds of fancy weapons that most people around here can't afford."

"Yeah, I did some work for them. They're okay, I suppose... once your earn their approval. And the guard out front, Simon, is really nice." She smiled, a blush creeping to her cheeks. "Um... I met Mick and Ralph. Can you tell me anything about them, sir?"

"Mick and Ralph sell all kinds of things over at a small store by the east gate. They've done all right by us, and they'll do all right by you."

"Yeah, I'm guessing they provide um... most of the guns around here. Uh... Can you tell me about the Kings, sir?"

"We're different than other gangs, and not just because we dress better. We're not just a group of thugs lookin' for our next fight. The Kings... are about an idea, you see? Where every man is free to follow his own path, do his own thing. Where every man is a king in his own right." She felt a shiver go up her spine. That sounded almost... inspiring. Either that or the King really knew how to sell his views.

"Um... Why isn't every man in Freeside a member of the Kings, sir?"

"We've tried to pass our philosophy on to the people of Freeside. But not everyone is ready... to be a King. The kids love us, but the old-timers... tend to shy away and keep to themselves. And they probably couldn't pull off the look, anyway. As for the others, some people just plain don't respect others, and that's a no-no. If there's one thing I won't tolerate, it's lack of respect."

She felt herself hypnotized, hanging on the King's every word. "Um... C-Can I join the Kings, Mr. King, sir?" Crap! Did she really just say that?

"Whoa, there. Not just anyone can be a King."

Her bubble burst spectacularly.

"First of all, we usually only accept people native to the area. Second, I have to approve. And I don't. You haven't shown me you've got what it takes to be a King, yet. But if you're fixin' to join somethin' fierce, stick around, and if you play your cards right, things might change."

"Um... Okay... Uh... This... This building is... interesting. Do you know anything about its history, sir?"

"Near as I can tell, it was some sort of religious institution. Oh, I know it says 'school' out front, but everything in here seems to be related to the worship of some guy from back in the day. People used to come here to learn about him, to dress like him, move like him. To _be_ him. If that's not worship, I don't know what is."

"Wow. Tell me more about him, please. What was his name? Was he some sort of messiah?"

"Not a whole lot to tell. There were only a few books left in here when we found it, and those were rotted away. There were posters left that were pretty well preserved, which is how we know all this stuff was based on the same guy. The thing of it is, we don't even know what his name was. All the posters just refer to him as... 'The King'."

"Oh! So that's where you got the name from, right?" She smiled at herself for making the connection.

"Well that and the giant sign outside. This place could have been 'The King's House of Dog Chow' and I still would've taken the name. But I like to think I keep the memory alive."

"Wow. So, if this was a school, what was taught here, Mr. King, sir?"

"As far as we can tell, the guy that built this place was considered the coolest of the cool, and taught other people how to be more like him. People would come all around to learn how to sing, dance, dress, and even speak the way he did."

"So you act like this man, in his memory?"

"Somethin' like that, yeah. There were some workin' tapes here when we first got here, so we know what he sounded like. Sadly, they stopped workin' a few years back, so I sold 'em to a junk merchant who was passin' through, otherwise I'd play some for you. All the outfits you see my guys wearin' around were originally found in here too, along with more hair gel than you can shake a stick at."

"Wow. Um... What can you tell me about Pacer, sir?"

"Pace? He and I grew up together around here. We've been through a lot together, and there's no man I'd rather have at my side in a pinch. Don't judge him too harshly for tryin' to get some caps out of you. He probably took you for a squatter, lookin' for a place to settle down. There've been a lot of people movin' into the area lately, and it's got some people riled. Can't blame 'em myself. There's only so much to go around."

"Okay. Um... where did you get the cyberdog?"

"I got Rex here from a salvager a few years ago. He was a little dinged up when I got him, but one of the Followers fixed him right up."

"Um... is he okay? He seems a little... depressed..." She patted the cyberdog on the head. He only whimpered.

"He's been actin' peculiar for some time now. I took him to the Followers and had him checked out, and they said his brain is bad or somethin'."

"What? Is he going to be okay?"

"For now. But they said eventually, he's goin' to get worse. I don't know what to do."

"Can they do anything?"

"No, they said they don't have the tools to help him."

"Um... is there any way I can help?"

"I don't know. Maybe. If you found a way to help my poor Rex here, I'd be much obliged. Your best bet would be to talk to Julie Farkas over at the Old Mormon Fort north of here. Maybe you'll have better luck than I did."

"Okay. I'll see if I can help, Mr. King, sir."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The group entered the Old Mormon Fort, Doctor Farkas directing them to a nearby tent. Three men were inside, one laying on a mattress, one standing on a mattress, and one sitting in a chair.

"What is it? Can't you see I wanna be left alone with my friend here?" the one sitting down told her. He was an older man, balding with white hair.

"Um... The King asked me to look into your attack, sir."

"Oh, that's different, then. How can I help? I'll do anything to get the bastards that did this." His tone was noticeably friendlier.

"Thank you. Um... What can you tell me about the attack?"

"Well, it happened at night. Around eleven. We had recently made some caps off a bit of scrap we found, and wanted to invest it wisely. As we were leaving the Wrangler, we must've taken a wrong turn, and ended up in the Squatter side of town. From out of nowhere, these big guys show up and start barking questions at us. Wanted to know if we were Locals. The kid there is about as proud as a Local around here gets, and started yelling back at 'em. Then all hell broke loose. Kid got the worst of it, sad to say."

"I'm so sorry, sir... Um... Do you remember anything about the people who attacked you?"

"They were big guys. Young, too. No old geezers like me. Hell, none of them looked even half my age. I was mostly face down in the dirt, begging for my life when it happened, so I only got a quick look at them."

"Okay. Thank you, sir. I'll go tell the King."

"I hope you find the bastards that did this. If you want, trying asking my friend Wayne over there about 'em. He saw more than I did." He turned to the man standing on his mattress. "Wayne, it's okay. The King sent her."

"That true? Did the King really send you?" he asked.

"He did. And anything you could tell me about what happened might help, sir."

"I don't really know what else I can add. They were a bunch a guys. Better dressed than most Freesiders, I guess. That help?"

The Courier nodded, smiling up at him. "Every bit helps. Thank you."

"Sorry I couldn't help more, especially since you're being so nice... Hey, wait! I just remembered something. I might of heard one of the guys that attacked us call another by name. We had just about had it when one of them said 'Hey, Lou, we gotta go'. At least I think he said Lou. It might have been something else. Now that I think of it, he said 'Lou-something'. Something with a 'T'. Tenant! That's what he called him. Lou Tenant."

"He probably said 'lieutenant', Wayne." The older man interjected. "The boy means well, but he's dumb as a mutant sometimes. Anyway, tell the King we thank him for lookin' out for us."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The Courier returned to the King with the news. "Have you found somethin' yet?" he asked. The Courier would have sat down next to him, but Pacer was in that chair, glaring daggers at her.

"Um... The Local men were attacked by soldiers." She fidgeted nervously under Pacer's hostile gaze. "O-One of them was identified by rank."

"Bunch a soldier boys, huh? They usually don't come around these parts since their big base is on the other side a the Strip. If they're comin' over here now, it's gotta be for a reason. I didn't wanna believe the rumors that they're lookin' to take over Vegas, but now... If something big _is_ goin' down, I'm sure rumors of it will have spread. Ask around, particularly in the Squatter areas where the NCR folk hang. You might also mosey on over to the Old Mormon Fort and chat Julie Farkas up. The Followers tend to be in the know about these things. Just don't ask her what to do about it. She'll probably ask you to... hug someone or somethin'."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The group made their way backto the Old Mormon Fort, finding Julie Farkas overseeing the coordination and distribution of the supplies they brought in.

"Um... Doctor Farkas!" The Courier called. The Followers administrator looked up from her clipboard as the Courier ran over.

"Always good to see our newest member. And hello to you too, Arcade. Need anything?"

"Um... We were wondering if you knew anything about NCR soldiers in Freeside, Doctor Farkas, ma'am."

"Only a little. A friend of mine, Major Elizabeth Kieran, has been handing out supplies to the poor a little west of here. What about it?"

"Um... The King thinks those troops have been attacking Locals, ma'am."

"I know something's got them riled up, but I've been too busy with other matters to really look into it. If you're looking into the matter, talk to Elizabeth. She's in charge of the operations here in Freeside, though she won't open up to you right away. If Elizabeth holds out on you, tell her that I sent you. She should be a little more forthcoming if you mention my name."

"Okay. Thanks so much, Doctor Farkas!"

"It's no trouble."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Well, first they needed a password to get into the ruined store acting as the supply relief station. They made their way to the Squatter area of Freeside to see if they could find anyone with the password. The stopped by the spot where they found Grecks, but he was gone, and in his place was a man in a leather vest and red sweater.

"You look like people in need of a good meal. You wouldn't happen to be NCR citizens, would you?"

"Um... Y-Yes we are?" Crap, Kaya! You're a bad liar!

"Now, it's not that I don't believe you, but I'm going to have to give you all a little quiz to verify your citizenship status. That okay with you?"

Neiila giggled. "Lay it on us!"

"That's a good attitude! I'm sure you'll do fine. These are just a few questions that just about anyone in the NCR would know. Alright, he we go. First question. Who was the most popular president in NCR history? Peterson, Tibbett, Kimball, or Tandi?"

The Courier panicked. Crap, crap, crap! Stupid amnesia! She barely knew anything about the NCR aside from what others had told her.

"President Tandi." The Courier looked to the source of the voice to see Boone had stepped forward. That's right! He was an NCR soldier!

"Uh huh. Okay, second question. What was the original name of the NCR capital? Aradesh, Shady Sands, the Boneyard, or Vault Thirteen?"

"Shady Sands." Boone answered again. The Courier looked up at him, her eye big and doe-like with gratitude.

"Right. Fine then, last question. What animal is on the NCR's flag? A two-headed bear, an eagle, a two-headed snake, or a two-tailed lion?"

"A two-headed bear." the sniper answered. The Courier felt the urge to hug him. Why was it that he kept pulling her out of jams? She felt a blush creep to her cheeks.

"Good. You passed with flying colors. I told you it'd be fine. I expect you're wanting to know about that meal then, huh? We're located up by the old train station, in the northwest part of town. Just tell the guards 'hope' and they'll let you through. Best of luck to you."

"Thank you, sir!" The Courier called as they turned to leave.

"Skynet is impressed with the sniper's knowledge."

"I was an NCR country boy. They drill those things into you from the moment you start school."

"Well, I think you're amazing, Boone!" The Courier hugged him. The sniper didn't hug back. He only looked extremely uncomfortable.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

They said the password 'Hope' to the guards out front of the ruined store, and they let them right in. The Courier entered and was surprised to see a whole line of people, presumably NCR Squatters, lined up in front of a counter covered with food. They approached a woman behind the counter.

"Welcome." she said. "There's food and water here for any citizen of the NCR. Please, have some."

"Um... Th-That's okay. We just ate at the Atomic Wrangler. Uh... A-Are you Elizabeth Kieran?"

"Yes. I'm a major in the supply corps. Which is where this food and water comes from."

"Do you serve food to Locals, too?"

"No, I'm afraid we don't. Do you have a friend you wanted to bring in?"

"Um... No, but why don't you serve Locals, Major Kieran, ma'am?"

"That's not really a pleasant topic of conversation. Let's just say we have our reasons."

"Um... Julie Farkas told me to ask. She... She said it was important."

"You know Julie? Not everyone in the NCR sees eye-to-eye with the Followers, but they're okay in my book, mostly because of her." The Courier smiled. "If you really want to know, we sent an envoy to the King, offering to coordinate the relief effort."

"Um... What happened?"

"Our envoy was brutally beaten, and only barely survived. My superiors ordered the relief mission scrapped. I managed to get clearance to carry out the mission anyway, but with greatly reduced support. Now there's not enough supplies to go around even if I wanted to serve the rest of Freeside, which I don't. But that's all in the past now. I should get back to work. Say hi to Julie for me."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Well, they best report to the King. As the Courier entered the King's School of Impersonation, Pacer ran right past her and out the door, nearly knocking her over. She recovered and headed to the stage area to talk to the King.

"You find out somethin' about them soldier boys yet?"

"Um... The NCR is distributing supplies in a building down by the old train station, sir."

"Handin' out supplies? Like food and stuff? That ain't nothin' to get ruffled over. You find anythin' else?"

"Um... They're only handing out supplies to NCR citizens, sir."

"Ah, that would explain the goons. They're here to keep people like my friends away from the food. That ain't somethin' I support. No sir."

"But, um... They said someone was sent to discuss the issue with you, Mr. King, sir."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute. They said what?"  
>"Uh... They said the man was attacked, severely beaten, and driven off before he could arrive. He barely survived..."<p>

"Huh, that would explain why they're all riled at us. Seems like we have a big misunderst-" A Kings member burst through the door, running up to the King. "What the hell?"

"King! We've got problems!"

"Lay it on me. What's goin' on?"

"There's a shoot out goin' down over at the train station. It's Pacer and some strangers. Might be the NCR."

The King turned to the Courier, who stood up straight at attention. "What is that fool doin'? I need you to head out there and try to defuse the situation. Tell them I'm willin' to cooperate."

"Yes sir!" The Courier turned and ran out of the building at top speed. She passed her companions waiting outside.

"Wait! Courier! What's the hurry?" Veronica called after her.

"There's something going on at the train station! Wait here for me!"

The group looked to each other, then nodded in understanding. They took off after her, though she was getting farther and farther out of reach given the speed difference.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

She came upon the train station to find several Kings members shooting at the NCR supply corps soldiers. As she ran in, a soldier stopped her.

"You there, keep your hands where we can see them! Draw a weapon and we _will_ fire!"

"I don't have a weapon, I just need to get in there!" She passed him, running in to find Major Kieran.

"This isn't really a good time. What did you want?" she asked.

"Stop! The King wants to help with the relief effort!" The Courier cried to her.

"Like he helped the envoy we sent? Ah ha ha. No thanks."

"That wasn't him! He didn't even know the envoy was sent!"

"Then he should watch his back." She thrust a finger into the Courier's shoulder. "We know for a fact that the envoy made it to their headquarters. Still, if the King's willing to deal with us, perhaps we can work something out. I'll tell my men to stand down."

"Thank you so much!" The Courier ran to Pacer, to find another King talking about something with him from behind the cover of a bus station. He turned to her when she ran up.

"The King just sent a messenger over, sayin' these guys are off-limits. He's probably already heard about what you did here." He crossed his arms. "Looks like you get to be a hero. Enjoy it while it lasts." The Courier swallowed hard.

Her companions soon arrived to find the situation successfully defused. "Huh. Guess our little Courier didn't need us after all." Cass mused.

"I'll say. Next time I'm just goin' to wait at the bar." Rocket complained.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The Courier returned to the King's School of Impersonation, stepping in to find the King sitting in his usual spot. She took a seat at the table with him.

"I heard about what happened. Maybe it's time for a little more talkin' and a little less fightin'." She smiled, happy for the King. "You've helped us plenty, so I'll tell you what. Just this once, name whatever you want, and if I can make it happen, it's done. Don't rush it, though. Toss it around in your head a little. You only get one favor from-"

"I want to join the Kings!"

The entire room turned to look at her after that loud outburst. She was even standing on her chair. Blushing, she sat back down and placed her hands in her lap, her gaze directed downward. "Um... Please?"

"Normally, we don't let outsiders join, and you'd be the first female King ever, but I think I can make an exception in your case. From this day forward, you're one of us. And no one in Freeside will mess with you if they know what's good for them. In addition, if you want to do something about that hair of yours, talk to Sergio. I'll let him know you're comin'. Perhaps more importantly, you've earned the right to wear somethin' a little more stylish. Here, wear it proudly."

He gestured to a Kings member nearby, who ran off, returning with some jeans and a leather jacket.

The Courier smiled a big smile. Yay for her! "Thank you so much, Mr. King, sir! I won't let you down!"

"Go ahead. Try it on."

"Um... Y-You mean... here?" She blushed.

"Oh. Right. Well, I guess you can change in the other room."

The Courier gave a sigh of relief.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

When she left the hallway, it seemed the jeans and boots fit great, but... the jacket wouldn't zip over her ridiculous breasts! Sigh... stupid boobs. Various Kings members whistled when she walked into the room, her hands folded behind her back and gazing downward in embarrassment.

"Well, don't you look like the coolest of cool, Miss Courier." The King praised, making the Courier blush. "Now, if you need a trim, go see Sergio. He's our resident hairdresser."

Nodding, she stepped back into the hall, a Kings member directing her into a room lined with vanities. A Kings member in jeans and a white shirt was there cutting another King's hair with a pair of scissors in each hand. "Um... A-Are you Sergio?"

"Shush shush shush! No interruptions! The Kings' hair must be _perfect_!"

"Um... Okay..." She waited until he was done and the Kings member left before she stepped up. "Ah, you come to me a King yourself! It would be an honor for me to do your hair! That _is_ why you're here, yes?"

"Um... Y-Yes."

He directed her to sit in front of one of the vanities. "Wonderful! Then let's begin making a whole new you!"

She sat down. "Um... J-Just a trim please, Mr. Sergio, sir."

"Ah! You wound me! You simply must let me have a whole styling go at it sometime!"

"Um... M-Maybe someday, Mr. Sergio, sir."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

When she stepped out of the King's School of Impersonation, her companions looked to her with various amused or surprised expressions. Jeans, boots, a leather jacket, even more cleavage than her prospector dress, and her hair just about an inch shorter. Yes, she had definitely joined the Kings.

"Please stop staring..." the Courier mumbled, causing the group to look anywhere but at her.

"Um... We need to head to the Old Mormon Fort to see Julie Farkas about the King's dog, Rex."

"Whatever you say, Boss." Raul responded.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Doctor Farkas!"

Julie turned to the group as they entered, the Courier running up to her in... a Kings jacket? Left mostly open... Wow, she didn't think a single bra in the world could hinder that kind of anatomical motion. "Always good to see you, Courier. Need something?"

"Um... The King said you could tell me more about his cyberdog, Doctor Farkas."

"Rex? It breaks my heart every time I see him. He's such a good dog."

"The King brought him here for treatment, then?"

"Yes, a few months ago. We had to tell him there was nothing we could do."

"So you can't heal him?"

"No, Rex's condition is way beyond anything we can handle. He requires brain surgery, and some sophisticated cybernetics work, too."

"So... There's no chance he'll ever get better?" She felt like she was about to cry.

"I didn't say that. While no one here has that kind of expertise, I do know of one man who might fit the bill. There's an old scientist named Doctor Henry who reportedly specializes in this sort of procedure. He's probably your best bet. Last I heard, he was living up in Jacobstown, far to the northwest."

"Thanks so much, Doctor Farkas! You've been so much help!" She lunged forward and hugged her. Julie only patted her on the back, smiling down at her.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The Courier returned to the King to find Pacer back at his side, glaring daggers at her. His eyes widened when he saw her wearing a Kings outfit, barely repressed rage boiling up within him. He got up and left, likely wanting to get out of there before he blew up in front of the King.

"Things have been a lot better since you helped with those soldier boys." The King told her. "Thanks again. So, what can I do for you?"

"Um... Doctor Farkas says there'sa doctor in Jacobstown that can treat Rex, Mr. King, sir."

"She said what? Why didn't she just say so when I was there? Actually, come to think of it, I was pretty angry when I went down there. I vaguely recall somethin' about upendin' a few tables, maybe knockin' out one of her doctors. Anyway, that's incredible news! Only thing is, there's too much goin' on around here for me to make a trip like that, and I need all of my guys just to keep things settled here. You seem to be awfully interested in my boy Rex here. And you've done some good work for me already. I'll tell you what. You promise to get Rexie here to that doctor, and I'll lend him to you. What do you say?"

"Absolutely! I'll see that he gets better, Mr. King, sir."

"I can't thank you enough. Now, there's a few things you should know about ol' Rex here, if you're goin' to be travelin' together. First, he hates rats. Can't stand the things. Giant rats, mole rats, pig rats, doesn't matter. He catches a whiff of one and he's off like a shot after 'em. He's normally pretty obedient, but you might have to chase him some if he goes after the little varmints. Second, he doesn't like hats, or the people wearin' them. Don't ask. I have no idea why. Maybe because it rhymes with 'rats'. That should be it, though. Other than the occasional bad spot when his brain starts hurtin' him, that is, but I'm hopin' you'll see to that. I wish you both luck. Take care of my Rex now, y'hear?" The King turned to Rex. "Rex, this is your new master. Protect her, as you would me." The cyberdog barked in response, making the Courier giggle.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The moment she left the King's School of Impersonation, the cyberdog began growling at Boone, Cass, Veronica, Raul, and Neiila.

"What's with the mutt?" Rocket asked.

"Isn't that the King's cyberdog?" Arcade pointed out.

"Why is he growling at us?"

"Oh, right. He doesn't like people with hats. Guys, think you could take off your hats, please?"

"No." Boone, Cass, Veronica, and Neiila all said at once. Raul was the only one who complied, slipping off his green head wrap. Huh. He still had a mustache, but not a single hair was on his head.

"Okay, Boone, I know you never take off your beret anyway. Neiila I know you're an... um... you have a deformity you need to hide. But really Cass? Really Veronica?"

"Hey, this is my favorite hat. In fact, it's my only hat. People can recognize me a mile away by this hat and that's when they hide or step out of the way. I have a rep to uphold."

"And you, Veronica? Why the hood?"

"Um..." the scribe fidgeted uncomfortably. "I... can't take off my hood."

"Why not?" Arcade asked.

"Um... It's my hair."

"What's wrong with your hair?" Boone asked.

"I just... I don't like it."

"What? Too long? Too short?" Raul questioned.

"No, I just... don't like it..."

Wait... that blush on her cheeks... her fidgeting hands. Her demure posture... She wasn't ashamed of her hair. She was shy about it! "Uh, let's just drop it, guys." She turned to Cass and Boone. "I'll tell you later. Let's just say I can relate to her right now." She whispered to the two. They nodded in understanding.

The Courier turned to Rex. "I-It's okay, Rex. Settle down! We're all on the same side now."

To her surprise, the cyberdog actually stopped growling and started panting, wagging his tail. She was deeply surprised that had worked.

"Listen, guys. Tomorrow we need to take Rex to Jacobstown to see the doctor there. Okay?"

Rocket sighed. "Another detour for charity work? Ya gotta be kiddin' me."

"Oh, yeah! Hey, Courier. While you were gone, Simon stopped by looking for you." Veronica told her. "Said to stop by the Silver Rush for a big job."

"Really? Um... Okay. Let's head for the Atomic Wrangler. I need to change clothes. Can you guys watch Rex while I'm there?"

"Whatever you say, Boss."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The Courier, back in her prospector dress, stepped into the Silver Rush, where the guards directed her to Gloria behind the counter.

"Good. You're here." The woman greeted her. "Do you remember that package I had you deliver? Well, the client liked the sample and put in a massive order. It's possibly the biggest order we've ever supplied. I've had to repeatedly assure my mother that everything will go smoothly. And that's where I'm hoping you'll come in. We'll be bringing an escort, and I want you on it. What do you say?"

The Courier nodded. "Count me in, Ms. Van Graff, ma'am."

"Perfect. We're still getting everything together, but I can always find a use for idle hands in the meantime. Once we're settled, we'll head out to the rendezvous point."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Dressed in armor and wielding a laser rifle, the Courier was led with the group of Van Graff guards to a warehouse in outer Vegas. To her surprise, men in Legion armor were waiting for them. She said nothing, though, standing aside with the other guards while Gloria discusses the deal with the head of the Legion party. After a while, the woman walked up to her.

"They're taking an awfully long time inspecting the weapons. I'm beginning to think they're doing it just to unnerve us. Don't let them rattle you, though. The deal's almost done. There's just one last piece of business left. Speaking of which, I need you to listen to me very carefully. Things are about to get a little crazy. When I give the signal, follow my lead, okay?"

The Courier said nothing, but nodded.

"That's what I like about you. You follow orders, for the most part. Just remember to wait for the signal." Gloria turned and stepped back over to the head of the Legion party, his face hidden behind a feathered Decanus helmet. "I trust you find everything acceptable?" she asked him.

"Everything seems to be in order. Caesar will not soon forget this."

"No. I imagine he won't."

A tiny tremor shook the building, knocking some dust from the ceiling. The doors of the warehouse opened, NCR troopers flooding out.

"It's a trap! Fall back!" the Legion squad leader ordered. He fell to the ground soon after from a laser to the head from Jean-Baptiste.

"The commander is down. Kill the rest." Gloria calmly ordered.

The Courier only stood there, shocked. This entire deal was an NCR set up? Didn't the Van Graffs hate the NCR? Shaking the thoughts from her head, the Courier tossed her laser rifle aside and dashed into the fray, nailing a Legionary in the head with a flying kick. She ran to another and gave him an uppercut in the jaw, snapping his neck back. The soldiers and Van Graff guards had the rest covered, but there was one more. She ran forward and tackled him to the ground, punching him square in the face. A soldier ran over and shot him in the head to finish him off. Panting, she returned to Gloria, bewildered.

"Good job. I need to work out some last-minute details with our new clients, but after that we'll head back to the Rush."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

They returned to the Silver Rush, where the Courier was directed behind the counter. She waited patiently while Gloria spoke with her brother Jean-Batiste. Eventually, she turned around to speak to the Courier.

"I suppose you have a few questions."

"Um... Yeah... What... What exactly happened back there?"

"We made a lot of money, that's what. The Legion paid us to deliver weapons, and the NCR paid us to deliver the Legion. Some of them, anyway. Caesar has been making overtures to prominent suppliers for some time now. Usually, they're too scared of him to cross him, and just pay or flee. I saw an opportunity, and negotiated a deal with the NCR. I help draw some of their enemy's troops into a trap, and they agree to buy from me. Normally, those stuck-up bastards wouldn't have anything to do with us. But their situation is precarious, and this chance was too tempting."

"But... I thought you hated the NCR."

"Oh, I do. They're a bunch of corrupt, bullying fools who think they can tell everyone how to live their lives, and my family's fought them for years." The malice in her voice sent a shiver up the Courier's spine. "But that's just it. Do you know how large the NCR army is? If they wanted to, they could've beaten us a dozen times over. Do you know why they haven't? Money. Every time things have gotten too tense, we've paid them off and laid low for a while. They're an enemy we can live with. This _Caesar_, on the other hand, is a different animal. We've heard reports for years from our agents to the east. He doesn't tolerate his enemies, he makes examples of them. And he doesn't have friends. Only servants. And the Van Graffs serve no one but themselves. Given that, the choice was rather simple."

"Um... Does that mean the Van Graffs are allied with the NCR now?"

"Well... not exactly. The deal wasn't exactly sanctioned with my mother, but she'll come around when she hears about the profit I made. If she's smart, and she is, believe me, she'll turn this to her own advantage and make a bundle off our new 'connections' in the NCR."

"Okay. So... what will you do now, Ms. Van Graff?"

"It'll be all I can do to supply the NCR with the amount of weapons they want, so I'll be pretty busy for the foreseeable future. Oh, you're probably wondering if you still have a job. I don't have anything open at the moment, sadly. But we're going to need all the help we can get transporting guns to the NCR, so stop by every now and then and I might have a delivery job for you. And before I forget, here's your share of the take from the warehouse job. You can keep the armor. Thanks again for all your help."

The woman handed the Courier a bag with one thousand caps! But the Courier was more excited about the armor.

"Really? I can keep the armor? Thank you so much! It's nearly impossible to find clothes in my size." She reached out to hug the woman, but she merely flicked her on the forehead.

"Hug me... and you'll regret it."

"Um... Okay…"

All that was left was a night at the Atomic Wrangler and heading to Jacobstown...

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**1.** The bacon comes from Pig Rats. Pig Rats are like Mole Rats, but with much more pig-like features, like a cross between a pig and a rat, and actually have good meat unlike Mole Rats. The eggs, of course, came from Wasteland Penguins.

**2.** Why didn't Jean-Batiste ask to see Cass? Because Cass hasn't sold Cassidy Caravans. X3

**3.** Bit of a plug. Be sure to read Chris the Cat's deceptively titled "Fallout: New Vegas The Story", and SakuraSan101's "Blue Moon: The Alessa Grant Chronicles". Both official recommendations from myself and both are fanfics just getting off their feet, so best start now so you won't have to read a lot later. ;3

**4.** Before I go, know that I'm officially taking suggestions for the Courier's surname. Just in case you forgot, since it doesn't come up much, her given name is Kaya, as suggested by my wonderful beta reader, InfiniteDragon.


	10. Chapter 9: First Snow

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Fallout. Fallout belongs to Bethesda, who purchased the rights from Black Isle.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Fallout:** New Vegas

Unknown Origins

By _Cyberweasel89_

**Chapter 9:** First Snow

**XXXXXXXXXX**

That night, the group got their usual rooms at the Wrangler. At just ten caps a room, there was enough for about two to a room. Like always, the pairings were Courier-Boone, Cass-Veronica, Arcade-Raul, Rocket-Neiila, while Skynet agreed to watch Edy and Rex in his own room while he brewed some RadAway and Fixer for the Followers. Evidently, the Followers were so impressed, they gave the robobrain a portable My First Chemistry Set.

The Courier lay in her room, lying under the covers and just staring at the ceiling. Boone was at the bar, and didn't plan on coming to bed for another hour. She was surprised with how often he saved her. There was the thugs in the alley, Orris, and though he hadn't exactly protected her, they couldn't have gotten the password to the supply relief effort without his knowledge of the NCR. She'd always dreamed of her own personal knight in shining armor, like the stories in Tales of Chivalrie. Could Boone be her knight?

The Courier looked around. Hm... She was alone in the room... Boone wouldn't be back for an hour... Sitting up, the Courier sat on the edge of the bed, reaching underneath her breasts to prod at her sex. Just a tap sent a shockwave coursing up her body. She wanted to see what... stupid boobs! She couldn't even see her own feet, let alone her own sex. Looking around, she spotted a handheld mirror on the bedside table. That'd do it. She grabbed it and held it down in front of her nethers, easily getting a good view as she prodded and rubbed. She was actually starting to get kinda steamy under the collar... She dropped the mirror and used her free hand to rub and fondle her breast, enjoying intense shockwaves from her chest as well as her loins. It was just as her mind was clouding over with the coming orgasm that she called out Boone's name... Only for the door to swing open and Boone to walk in just as she did so.

The Courier froze, as did the sniper. He said nothing, only chugging from his bottle of scotch and walking away. Her face beet red, she walked over and closed the door, retreating back under the covers of her bed.

That morning, she found Boone had bunked with Skynet, and was somewhat groggy come morning because of the smell of the chemicals the robobrain had been using.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

What she could tell, Rex was a mixed breed, but primarily German shepherd. The tag on his collar clearly named him as Rex, but... she had to wonder about the bull painted on his side. His doggie saddle bags that they purchased from Ralph proved useful for carrying excess supplies, so long as it wasn't filled with anything too heavy to hinder his combat prowess. He was behaving like a little angel on the way to Jacobstown, and even took down a cazadore for them. Surprisingly, they only ran into two of the poisonous insects, though they found a lot of them already dead along the road.

The group made their way up the trail into the mountains, and were largely unbothered aside from spotting several families of grazing bighorners. But the Courier was amazed when they got further up, and she saw pine trees!

"Guys! Look! Pine trees!" The Courier ran over, knocking on one and feeling its rough bark.

"You see trees all the time, Courier." Cass pointed out.

"I know, but they're always so dead and dried up! Look at these pine trees! They're so full of life! Just look at them! Say, it's getting late... c-can we camp in this grove for the night? Please?"

Boone sighed. "Whatever."

"Sure thing, Boss." Raul agreed.

So it was decided. Neiila cooked them a bighorner steak dinner. They had purchased a second tent from the Followers, considering how large their group was getting. Boone, Arcade, and Raul in one, the Courier, Cass, Veronica, Neiila, and Rocket in the other. The Courier couldn't help but realize that the women outnumbered the men by a three to five ratio. Well, if you didn't count Rex, Edy, Skynet, and Bess, all four of which were sleeping or patrolling outside. Though... she had to admit, Rocket would probably side with the boys if it came to a feminine versus masculine decision, so maybe it was about even if it ever came to a vote.

They continued their trek the next day, passing only a few mantises that were quickly dispatched. They enjoyed a lunch of grilled mantis legs before reaching Jacobstown, recognizable by the tall wooden walls and the two super mutants guarding the front. But the Courier was surprised to see some sort of... white stuff... covering the ground.

"What's that white stuff?" she asked. She pressed her hand to it. "It's cold."

"That's snow, Courier." Cass explained.

"Really? This is snow? Oh my! We... We... We have to have a snowball fight, or... make a snowman, or... make snow angels, or, or-"

"Breathe, Courier. Breathe." Veronica cautioned.

She took a deep breath. "I've just... Never seen snow before... at least, not that I remember. And I don't think I have, considering we live in a desert..."

"This place is high enough in the mountains that it actually gets snow." Arcade explained, adjusting his glasses as he spoke.

"Welcome to Jacobstown, humans. You're free to walk around, just don't stare at the nightkin. They don't like people looking at them. And if you're NCR, keep it to yourself. They're not popular around here."

They looked to see a super mutant approach them, wearing a headset and armor made from various junk metal.

"Um, hi. I'm the Courier. This is Boone, Cass, Veronica, Arcade, Raul, Rocket, Neiila, Skynet, Edy, Rex, and Bess."

"Name's Marcus. You have quite a diverse group with you, human."

"Thank you. Um... Neil told me about this town."

"Lot of the mutants here found out about Jacobstown because of Neil. Our isolation works against us sometimes."

"Well, he's doing a wonderful job, just so you know. Um... You mentioned not looking at the nightkin. Why?"

"Nightkin suffer schizophrenia from the stealth boys they're always using. One of the reasons I settled Jacobstown was so they could be cured. While they're in town, the nightkin aren't allowed to have stealth boys so their craziness doesn't get worse. Trouble is the nightkin don't like being visible, either. They don't take being exposed too well."

"Um... They hate not being invisible?"

"I suppose a good human analogy would be that to a nightkin, not being invisible is like being naked in public."

The Courier blushed. "Well... I guess I understand, then. Um... So why isn't the NCR liked around here?"

"Lot of bad blood between super mutants and humans. Goes back years. Some here still got the scars and memories. Me, I don't really have a problem with the NCR. Set their sights a little too high sometimes, but they try. Legion, that's another story."

"Legion? Why? What do you think of them, Mr. Marcus, sir?"

"Caesar thinks he can change human nature. Most of the Legion is following Caesar, not Caesar's ideals. When he's gone, it'll crumble. Might not happen overnight. Might take a few decades. But it'll happen. Basic human nature... greed, ambition, jealousy... will see to it."

"Um... are there any town rules we should know about?"

"Same as any civilized town. Don't start any fights or steal anything, we'll treat you fair. Not a lot to ask."

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that. Um... What's the history of Jacobstown, Mr. Marcus, sir?"

"Was a resort Pre-War. I renamed it to Jacobstown after an old friend. Died a long time ago. I figured us mutants needed a place to call our own. Towns far enough away from humans so they don't bother us much. One of these days I'm hoping we can trade with the rest of the wasteland. No more fighting, just... get along."

"I hope so too."

"Really. Hard to find humans who don't hate mutants. Most have all kinds of misconceptions about us."

"Well, the way I see it, you're all just people, same as us."

The mutant smiled. "I think we'll get along, human."

The Courier smiled back. "I hope so. Um... Could you tell me a little about yourself, Mr. Marcus, sir?"

"Was part of a super mutant army. Ran a town. Walked the wasteland with a tribal. Now I'm here."

"Super mutant army?"

"Long story, so here's the short version. The Master created the super mutants and the nightkin. The Master thought he could unify everyone. No more differences, no more war. Didn't end well."

"Um... You were a mayor of a town? Like you are now?"

"Town was Broken Hills. Bunch of super mutants, humans, and ghouls all living together peacefully. Well, most of the time."

"That sounds like a paradise!"

"Wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Didn't end well, either."

"I'm sorry, sir. Um... you walked the wasteland with a tribal?"

"We were looking for a GECK to save the village of Arroyo. Eventually, we did. Nuked an oil rig in the process. The tribal ultimately came to be the savior and leader of Arroyo, turning the village into a bustling, successful town. We went separate ways after that. Inspired by Arroyo's success, I went east into the Rockies, looking for other mutants like myself."

"Oh! Then you founded Jacobstown! That's amazing!"

Marcus chuckled. "Thanks. If you say so, human."

"Wait... This is just a shot in the dark, but... I heard about a tribal that recruited a group that included a super mutant to stop the remnants of the Pre-War United States government. Was that this same tribal?"

Marcus smiled. "I can neither confirm nor deny that, human." But the Courier could tell by the twinkle in his eyes. She didn't know the full details, but as far as she was concerned, Marcus was a hero in more ways than one.

"Um... We're looking for Doctor Henry, sir."

"Doc's inside the lodge."

"Oh! Thanks so much, Mr. Marcus, sir!"

They made their way through the gate, but the Courier stopped when she saw Skynet just sitting there.

"Uh... Skynet? Aren't you coming?"

"Skynet will wait here." the robobrain explained.

"Um... You're not coming with us?"

"Skynet will wait here!" the robobrain repeated, louder.

"Are you sure?"

"Skynet will wait here. Skynet will join the human at a later time."

"Um... If you say so, Skynet. We'll go meet with Doctor Henry, then. You'll be able to find us inside the lodge."

As the Courier and her group made their way in, Marcus smirked at the robobrain. "She doesn't know, huh?"

"Skynet has not told the human. Skynet has no intention of telling the human."

"Well, that aside... It's really great to see you again, Skynet."

"S-S-Skynet is h-h-happy to see M-M-Marcus!"

The super mutant chuckled, walking forward and reaching out a hand to shake. Skynet accepted it, slipping his manipulator into Marcus's large fist and shaking.

"Definition. Handshake. Noun. A gripping and shaking of right hands by two individuals to symbolize greeting, agreement, congratulation, farewell, or mutual respect."

"Ah ha ha! You're still doing that?"

"DO-ING what?"

"That dictionary thing."

"Definition. Dictionary. Noun."

Marcus sighed, shaking his head but smiling. "Here we go again."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"More humans. One was enough."

A nightkin spoke up the moment they entered the lodge. The Courier turned to him. "Um... Hi!"

"Bother someone else. I don't want anything to do with you."

She flinched back.

"Um... is the other human you mentioned Doctor Henry?"

"Yes. He's one of you. Go speak with him, instead of me."

"And who are you?"

"Keene. I represent the nightkin. Marcus may lead this town, but the nightkin listen to what I have to say. Doesn't mean I don't respect Marcus for what he's trying to do. However, he doesn't truly understand the difficulties of being a nightkin."

"Okay. Um... Are the nightkin here in town for the schizophrenia cure?"

"Yes! The stealth boys we use have cumulative, adverse effects on our minds. Jacobstown was supposed to be a sanctuary, a place to find a cure. Instead, we wait and wait. I'm sick of waiting!"

"Do you have a problem with humans, buddy?" Boone asked.

"Humans are always staring at things. We nightkin don't like being stared at. Is... is... uncomfortable."

"Uh... How does that make you different from some humans? I certainly don't like being stared at..."

"It _is_ different! Right now, I'm trying very hard to remain civil, and you're not making it easy with your incessant questions!"

"Um... We'll just go see Doctor Henry, then. Bye, Mr. Keene."

"Finally."

They made their way to the room on the right, finding an older man and a ghoul woman ambling about what was clearly a lab, a dead nightstalker on the table. The Courier stepped up to the man. He looked away from his microscope to face her.

"I assume this is about something important? You're interrupting my research."

"Are you Doctor Henry?"

"Yes. Was with the Enclave. Left before its destruction, figured I could get one accomplishment in before I died, so I'm here, trying to cure the nightking. You need something?"

"Something's wrong with our cyberdog. We were told you were the one to see about that."

The Doctor took a look at Rex, walking over and giving him a once-over, even shining a flashlight in his eyes. "It's neural degradation. Bio-med gel can only preserve a living brain for so long, so you'll need to find a replacement brain. I haven't left Jacobstown for years, but there was one woman in Novac... Gibson? I remember her living with a pack of hounds."

"Oh! I've met her! Um... but I'm curious... what are you working on, Doctor Henry?"

"The nightkin have varying degrees of mental instability, due to their addiction to stealth boy use. I've been trying to come up with a cure. I'm currently investigating the local nightstalker population, since they seem to have developed a natural stealth field. I've also gotten my hands on a working stealth boy mark two prototype, but that experiment is riskier. I'd rather not pursue that research just yet."

"Why is the stealth boy mark two riskier?"

"The stealth field has been modulated to use less power and thus last longer, but for some reason it has pronounced negative effects on the user. However, these pronounced effects will allow me to pinpoint exactly what parts of the brain they're affecting. Unfortunately, I'll need to run the test on a live subject, and Marcus has encouraged me to investigate the local nightstalker mutation first."

The Courier swallowed hard. "Does stealth boy use hurt humans?"

"It's possible. But I've yet to see any hard evidence or hear of any cases where humans were negatively affected. It's negative effects are more pronounced on nightkin."

The Courier released a sigh of relief. "Well, I'd like to help in any way I can, Doctor Henry, sir."

"Really, now?" The doctor crossed his arm. "I suppose I have something you can do. I'm not convinced that the nightstalker mutation is a natural one, and I need someone to investigate their lair for proof. Some of the super mutants have looked around as well, but they've come back empty-handed. Perhaps a pair of fresh eyes will have better luck. Lily might be interested in coming with you. She's lost a few of her bighorners to nightstalker attacks and would enjoy a little revenge."

"Um... Lily?"

"Look for the nightkin in overalls and a sun hat. She should be helping tend to the bighorners."

"Okay. Um... What makes you think the nightstalker mutation isn't natural, though?"

"I've compared the brain chemistry of a nightkin to one of the local nightstalkers we killed. They both exhibit similar neurochemical changes. Now, I'm not claiming that nightstalkers are running around wearing stealth boys, mind you. I just don't think it's all a coincidence."

"Download complete. Begin recording." Every eye in the room turned to Edy. "Navarro outpost scientists, I am glad that ED-E has reached you. You will find several databanks of information on this machine. Please handle this information with the utmost care, as it represents the sum total of the results of my research on the duraframe eyebots. There are also several databanks with information on my research into Poseidon Energy, and some projects they were working on in the Mojave area."

"Uh... Did Edy just talk?" Veronica asked, dumbfounded.

"Oh. This happened once before at the Gibson scrap yard. Edy seems to have data on her that's triggered by certain keywords. Old Lady Gibson was pretty sure the phrase that triggered the first log was HELIOS One, where they're working on a solar project for Poseidon Energy."

"Then the word Enclave must have triggered it this time." Doctor Henry suggested. "That's an Enclave eyebot."

"Right. I'm not sure what to do with these logs, but once unlocked through the keywords, she can play them back again at any time."

"That's... really weird, kid." Boone remarked.

"I know. There's so much I don't know about Edy... Oh, but we have a job to do. Boone, please take Cass, Veronica, and Edy and head to Novac to talk to Old Lady Gibson. Ask her if any of her dogs are close to death and see if she'll let you have his brain."

"Gonna be a weird question, but okay. Let's go." Boone remarked. The four walked out of the room, heading for the door to the lodge.

"Raul, Arcade, Rocket, Neiila, we'll take Skynet and Lily and go check out the caves."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

They stepped outside and found Lily right where Doctor Henry said she'd be. She turned to face them as they approached. "Jimmy? Little Jimmy? My, how you're grown up! So good of you to come visit your grandma!"

The Courier was a bit taken aback. She quickly recovered and composed herself. "Um... Who's Jimmy?"

"Oh, Jimmy! Don't you go being silly now! Come over here and give your grandma some sugar!"

"Um... I think you have my confused with someone else..."

"I... Oh, of course I have, dearie. How silly of me. I didn't take my medicine yet today. How can I help you?"

"Um... We're looking into the nightstalker mutation. Doctor Henry said you might be interested in helping us."

"Oooo, those nightstalkers! Always killing my bighorners! It'll be nice to give them a piece of my mind!"

"Great! Let's go, then!"

They made their way to the gate to town, but Marcus stopped them. Boone, Cass, Veronica, Edy, and Skynet were waiting there too. "Got a problem. Could use your help. Been having trouble with NCR mercs harassing the town, and they just showed up again."

"Really? Uh... How have they been harassing the town?"

"Killing our bighorners, shooting at the lodge, that sort of thing. It's getting hard to keep people from retaliating."

"You're sure these mercenaries work for the NCR?"

"Guess I can't say for sure if they're NCR. Whoever they are, they want us dead or gone."

"Okay, what do you want me to do, Mr. Marcus, sir?"

"You're human. They might be willing to listen to what you have to say. Maybe. I'm not asking you to kill them. Just talk them into leaving. Hell, pay them off if you have to."

"I'll see what I can do, sir."

"Thanks."

"C'mon guys. Maybe if we all go together, we can intimidate them into leaving." The Courier suggested.

"Well, well. Our little Courier actually suggesting intimidation? Wow." Cass teased.

"Well... We have to think of something! Let's just try talking to them first."

The group headed a little ways down the road, finding several mercenaries positioned among the trees and along the road. The one in the center seemed to be the leader. "Our business is with the muties, not you." he told them.

"What do you want with Jacobstown?" The Courier asked him.

"Just doing what I'm paid to do. Harass the muties until they leave or attack us. If they leave, we let 'em go. If they attack, we wipe them out. Either way, the job's not done until they're cleared out of the town."

"Who are you doing this for?"

"Won't name names, but some important folks in the NCR are sick of muties attackin' their brahmin herds. They want them gone from NCR territory. Maybe this group had somethin' to do with attackin' brahmin, maybe not. Doesn't matter. We're gettin' paid to make them go away."

"Um... Go away or you'll have to deal with us, and you'll wish you were fighting super mutants." The Courier raised her fists in a combat-ready stance. The others took their cue and readied their weapons threateningly. The mercenary actually faltered.

"I've always know when to fight and when to back down, and it seems to me I ought to back down this time. My men and I are leaving. You won't see us around here again."

The Courier let out a sigh of relief. The man holstered his rifle on his back and gave a whistle to the men around him, waving them to follow him. She hurried back to Marcus.

"Um... You won't have any more trouble with those mercenaries, Mr. Marcus, sir."

"Good. Glad you didn't kill them. Letting them walk away proves we're not bloodthirsty mutants. If the NCR or anybody else is looking for an excuse to attack Jacobstown, they're not going to get it from us."

"Glad I could help. Uh... Mind if I ask what the story is with Keene?"

"Smart, charismatic. And hell of a mean streak. Doesn't care for humans. Prefers fighting them to talking. He's got a lot of pull with nightkin, though. He talks, they listen. Was hoping he could draw other nightkin to Jacobstown. Keene is saner than most, but I know he's thinking of going his own way again. He's aggressive, impatient. Can't stand sitting around."

"Why does Keene want to leave?"

"Because of a promise. One I haven't been able to keep. The nightkin all suffer from schizophrenia. It's the stealth boys they use. Used to use. Nightkin have a hard time being seen like normal folks. Can't stand it. A few already left to try and find more stealth boys. Miserable situation. They either stay here and suffer, or dig up stealth boys and lose their minds. Not much of a choice."

"What happens if Keene leaves?"

"That happens, there's a good chance other nightkin will follow. It'll make it hard to get a cure to them. Worse, if Keene and the nightkin tear up the Mojave hunting for stealth boys, people are going to get killed. Most humans can't tell the difference between mutants. Might come _here_ looking for payback."

"I understand the situation. If you need anything from us, just ask."

Marcus smiled. "Heh. Always eager to help. Reminds me of someone I used to know. No wonder Skynet joined up with you."

"What?"

"Nevermind. It's not for me to say."

"Um... Okay, if you say so."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Inside the cave, the only light source possible was from the Courier and Rocket's Pip-Boys. Otherwise, it was pitch black in there. Nightstalkers ambushed them all the way through, attacking them while invisible. Lily proved quite capable with some sort of sword that looked to be made from a vertibird propeller blade.

Eventually, they came to an inner cavern where they found a dead nightkin with a stealth boy lying next to him, which looked to have been chewed on. There was also a super sledge nearby that, while rusted, seemed modified to be more powerful than a standard super sledge. Skynet took an interest in it, and the nightkin that was using it was dead, so... yoink!

With chewed stealth boy in hand, the group made their way back out of the cave.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Boone, Cass, and Veronica saw a peculiar sight as they approached the Gibson scrap yard. A man was talking to Old Lady Gibson. He turned and walked away as they drew closer, but stopped when he saw them.

"You there." He called in a deep, gravelly voice. He approached them. He seemed to be dressed in a black sleeveless duster with a black shirt underneath, baggy black pants, a pair of motorcycle boots, olive drab knee pads, some sort of tribal necklaces hanging from his neck, but... His right arm. It seemed to be entirely robotic, composed of clunky pieces of metal cobbled together into a fully functional artificial limb. His skin was a light brown, his black hair tied into long dreadlocks, but... he was wearing a mask. It looked like some sort of breathing mask that completely covered his mouth and nose, two vents protruding from either side of it. His height and build and the world weary look in his piercing brown eyes suggested he was at least in his late twenties, but he might have just experienced a lot of trying times in a short period. On his back was an eagle-tipped flag pole of all things, while a 12.7mm submachine gun was at his hip.

"Can we help you, buddy?" Cass asked him.

"Yes. Looking for a girl. Name Kaya Wylde. Fan of pistols. Typically wears cargo pants and tank tops. Likes to drink. Smoke. Shoot herself up with drugs. Gamble. Have sex with any man who takes her fancy. Aggressive, crude, no manners. Isn't afraid to cheat to get what she wants. Was hoping you might have seen her."

"You told us her personality. What's she look like?" Veronica asked.

"Of course. Short. Biracial. Red eyes. Mouth like a sailor. Very rough way of speaking."

"Sorry, don't know anyone like that." Boone told him.

"I see. You find her, tell her I'm looking for her."

"And you are?" Cass asked.

"Ulysses. What labels do you go by?"

"Boone."

"Cass."

"I'm Veronica, and that's Edy." The eyebot beeped.

The man's eyes narrowed at the eyebot, as if just noticing it was there and enraged by the sight of it for some reason. It passed just as fast as it came, and he nodded to them. "Good travels."

As he walked past them, they turned to watch him leave, seeing he had an emblem stitched into the back of his black duster. The flag of the Old World...

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The group entered the lodge and made their way to Doctor Henry. "You're back. Find anything?" he asked.

"Yeah. Uh... We found a chewed up stealth boy in the nightstalker lair." She handed it to him.

The doctor examined it, turning it over in his hand to look at it from all sides. "Hm... There's still power, but the casing is cracked." he observed. "I'm astonished that exposure to the stealth radiation could induce mutations so rapidly. More importantly, this explains why my research into this group of nightstalkers hasn't come up with a cure for the nightkin. There's only one avenue left for me. I need to run the mark two test on Lily. It's the only way."

"Um... What are the risks of the experiment?"

"Possibly immediate and permanent mental damage. There's a reason the stealth boy mark twos never got beyond the prototype stage. Lily already has a pre-existing condition, and the experiment will likely make things worse for her."

"Well... Why Lily and not some other nightkin?"

"Lily is eccentric, certainly, but I've never felt she was dangerous. More importantly, she asked if she could help me in some way. I've told her about the risks, and she still insists on helping me."

The Courier turned to Lily. "Um... Lily, do you still want to help Doctor Henry run his experiment?"

"Of course, dearie. I know it's dangerous, but it'll all turn out for the best, you'll see."

"Okay. I just hope you know what you're doing, Lily..."

"The equipment is all hooked up." Doctor Henry told her. "We can start whenever Lily is ready."

"Ready Lily?" the Courier asked her.

"You bet, pumpkin!"

"Very well." He turned to the Courier and her group. "Please stand back. I don't want any erroneous readings. You're welcome to stay and observe if you want, though."

The Courier nodded, moving to stand to the side with Arcade, Raul, Rocket, Neiila, and Skynet.

Calamity went to man the computer, while Doctor Henry instructed Lily to stand by the wall. "All right, power on the stealth boy, Lily."

"Turning it on." She pressed the button on the device on her wrist, turning invisible save for a faint shimmer of light. "Urgh... Feels strange. Strange but good." she explained.

"Interesting. Try thinking aggressive thoughts now. Think about smashing a radscorpion."

"Grrrr! Lily smash! Gyah ha ha!"

"How are those readings looking, Calamity?"

"Stealth field is unstable and scrambling things. The reading says gamma wave activity is zero. But that can't possibly be right. Gamma wave activity is... zero? That can't be right. Must be a result of the interference." the ghoul explained.

"All right, we're done here. Go ahead and power the stealth boy down, Lily."

The nightkin did so, becoming fully visible once more. "Awww... I liked having it on."

"I'll get back to you on that in a moment, once I've analyzed the results. Uh oh."

Keene burst into the room. "Well, well. Congratulations on getting the mark two prototype functional, Doctor. Now, just hand it over, and we'll be on our way."

The Courier ran up to him. "Stop! Please!"

"My request is perfectly reasonable. Give us the stealth boy specs, and there will be no need for us to splatter the room with your insides."

"What? What are you planning to do with them?"

"There are caches of stealth boys out there. With the mark two in hand, it shouldn't be difficult to upgrade every one of them."

"But... But the mark twos are even more dangerous than regular stealth boys!"

"Our lives, our decision to make. We're tired of sitting around in Jacobstown, waiting for a cure."

The Courier's eye teared up. "How... How can you be so selfish?"

Keene actually faltered. Did her eye glow red for a moment there? "What?"

"What you do in the wasteland affects all the mutants here! But you didn't think about that, did you?"

The nightkin paused, actually frowning. "No, I didn't... Not until now anyway... Uh... Very well, human. You've made your point. And I withdraw my... request."

"And?"

"Don't push your luck, human!"

"And?" she growled.

That eye was glowing red again! "And I'm... sorry."

"Thank you, Keene. I promise you, Doctor Henry will find a cure soon."

"Bah! We'll wait and see." He left the room, along with his two nightkin goons.

Doctor Henry breathed a sigh of relief, stepping up to her and shaking her hand. "Nice work with the nightkin. I've never seen anyone able to talk their kind out of anything once they had their mind set to it."

The Courier blushed, rubbing the back of her head. "Um... Y-You're welcome. Uh... How did the experiment go?"

"Oh! I got a lot of useful data from the experiment. I'm a lot closer to a cure than before, actually. It's occurred to me that this brief test might not yield a cure anytime soon. However, if Lily were to continue to wear the prototype...

"Skynet proposes using neuro-peptide stimulators on nightstalker brain. Skynet theorizes this would simulate living brain." the robobrain explained.

"That's..." The Courier held her breath. "Brilliant! Simple yet elegant! I can't believe I didn't think of that." She released it. "Your robobrain is amazing, kid!"

The Courier blushed. "Yeah, I know he is." She turned to Skynet, hugging him. "Thanks, Skynet. You're the best."

"W-W-WARM AND FUZ-Z-ZY!"

The Courier giggled.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

They ended up waiting in Jacobstown two weeks for Boone, Cass, Veronica, and Edy to return. The Courier greeted them when they arrived.

"Boone! Cass! Veronica! Edy!" She ran up and hugged the sniper. "Did you get a brain for Rex?"

"Yeah, kid. Old Lady Gibson gave us Rey's brain." He held up a small cooler that no doubt contained the organ.

"Great! Now we can save Rex!"

It took a day to perform the operation. As they got ready to head out, a different voice sounded from Edy's speaker.

"Uh... Hello? Hi. Are you there? Oh, right. You can't respond. Listen, I'm using your robot as a relay to get this message to you. I've picked up some unusual chatter regarding your robot. It seems that it has some information that we could use. Oh, wait. Where are my manners? This is Lorenzo, a Knight with the Brotherhood of Steel. We'd be very interested in examining your tech. Could you bring your robot to one of our patrols so they can examine it? I'll have the robot mark the location on your map."

A ping sounded on the Courier's Pip-Boy, and she looked to see the REPCONN headquarters building marked on her map, right near where the original Cassidy Caravans was destroyed.

"Know anything about this, Veronica?" the Courier asked the scribe.

"No clue. But I know Lorenzo. He's a good enough guy. He usually works pretty closely with the scribes."

"Hm... When we go to check out Cassidy Caravans, we should see if we can meet that patrol."

"By the way, are we really taking that nightkin with us?" the scribe continued.

"Yes!" the Courier snapped. "And her name is Lily!"

**XXXXXXXXXX**

As they were walking back down the mountain, the Courier decided to talk to Lily a bit.

"Say, um, Lily?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Mind if I ask you a few questions?"

"Such a curious little munchkin, aren't you? What do you want to know?"

"Well, to start off... how about you tell me about yourself, please?"

"Aww, someone wants to hear grandma's stories! What would you like to hear, pumpkin?"

"Um... Where are you from?"

"I grew up in Vault 17. I never even saw the sun until I was seventy-five years old. That was when super mutants raided the vault, and carried a lot of us off. Yes, Leo! I'm getting to that part! They made me one of them, and they put me to work in an army that was going to conquer California."

"You were a soldier?"

"A spy. Sometimes an assassin. I killed a lot of folks for the Master. Yes, Leo, you helped too."

"What happened?"

"That wicked old Master got what was coming to him, that's what! After his cathedral blew up, I decided it was high time to go home."

"Um... Where'd you get that sword? It almost looks like a vertibird propeller..."

"This old thing? Oh, I scavenged it off a wreck in Klamath. Leo showed me how to make it all ready for chopping, didn't you, Leo?"

"Uh... You keep mentioning someone named Leo. Who's he?"

"Leo is a very bad man, pumpkin. Yes you are, Leo! Don't try to deny it! He tells me to do things, terrible things, and sometimes the medicine isn't enough to keep him quiet."

"But... There's no one there." Veronica mentioned.

"Well, of course there is, dearie. How else could I hear him tell me who to chop?"

"So he's just a voice you hear in your head?" Cass asked. She took a swig from her flask.

"You shouldn't say things like that where Leo can hear you, dearie. He doesn't like it."

Uh oh. Everyone was getting creeped out. Quick, Kaya! "Anywho! So, Lily, you mentioned you were taking medicine. Um... What kind is it?"

"Doctor Henry calls them... 'anti-psychotics'. I don't know what they're supposed to do. They just make my memory fuzzy."

"Shit... is that what that big box of medicine bottles is in the wagon?" Boone asked.

"Yes, Doctor Henry gave me a whole year's supply when he heard I was leaving. Wasn't that sweet of him?"

"Good call on Lily, Courier! She's a blast!" Neiila chirped. The scary thing was... the Courier didn't think she was being sarcastic.

"You're being sarcastic, right?" Arcade asked.

"No thanks, I'm not hungry."

The Courier sighed. Skynet wasn't defining the word sarcasm... She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

They stopped by the King's School of Impersonation to give Rex back, but he only explained they could hold onto the cyberdog a while longer as thanks for saving him. They picked up one last passport for Lily, spent one last night at the Atomic Wrangler, and finally made their way to the New Vegas strip.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**1.** Robotic limbs _do_ exist in the Fallout world. An NPC cut from Fallout 2 was meant to have a robotic hand that you could loot from his corpse.


	11. Chapter 10: Sex is in the Air

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Fallout. Fallout belongs to Bethesda, who purchased the rights from Black Isle.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Fallout:** New Vegas

Unknown Origins

By _Cyberweasel89_

**Chapter 10:** Sex is in the Air

**XXXXXXXXXX**

To say the Courier was overwhelmed would be an understatement. People walking all over, lights, sounds, music, people talking. It was chaotic! It finally took a shake on the shoulder from Boone to break her out of her daze.

"Kid! Kid!"

She shook her head to try and focus her mind. "Um... Yeah, Boone?"

"Get your head in the game. You've been standing there staring for a while now."

"S... Sorry."

"Huh." Cass began. "Never thought I'd pass the Vegas wall. Heh, never seen so many lights in one place before.

"There's that cowboy robot again."

"R-Really?"

She looked, scanning the crowds, and sure enough saw a securitron with the telling screen of Victor. The robot was wheeling right up to them. "Howdy, pardner! You've come a far piece, haven't ya? Welcome to New Vegas." he called.

The Courier ran over, throwing her arms around his chassis. "Victor! You made it to New Vegas after all! I'm so happy for you!"

"Well, it wasn't that hard a trip, really."

"What do you mean?"

"Aw shucks, pardner. I suppose it can't hurt to let ya in on my little secret. Old Victor wouldn't be much use stuck inside just one securitron. Naw, I can move from one to another with the snap of a finger. Pretty nice trick, ain't it? Just don't ask me how I do it, cause I don't know!"

"R... Really?"

"Really! Need me to demonstrate? I can-"

"No, no, no! That's fine. Um..." Something seemed off... she had a feeling in the pit of her stomach that maybe Trudy was right... there really was more to Victor than met the eye. "Um... I... I need to make my way to the Tops. E-Excuse me, Victor." She moved to walk around him, but he wheeled himself in front of her.

"Hold up there, pardner! Consider me your personal welcome wagon. Now hear this. The head honcho a' New Vegas, Mr. House, is itchin' to make your acquaintance. Follow me to the Lucky 38! It's the big ol' tower shaped like a roulette spinner."

"Um... Mr. House wants to meet with us? And we're going inside the Lucky 38? Where no living thing has gone inside for two hundred years?"

"You betcha, pardner! C'mon, follow me!"

"Um... Let's go, guys."

The group started walking along behind Victor.

"Wow, Mr. House was looking for ya, huh?" Veronica teased the Courier. "What do you think he wants? Bowling partner?"

"A face-to-face meeting with House, huh? The NCR would kill to be in your shoes." Boone remarked, popping a sprig of tobacco into his mouth.

"Well..." Cass began. "If he wants to see us, that's a rare thing I wouldn't turn down. I'd ask him some hard questions, though." She took a sip from her flask.

Victor led them up a flight of stairs to the entrance of a tall tower, which like Victor said, was shaped like a roulette wheel.

"Here we are! Boss is waitin' for ya upstairs. Best get a move on."

"Um... Th-Thank you, Victor." The Courier told him.

"Sorry pardner, but your friends are gonna have to wait outside."

The Courier's fingers clenched. "No deal." she stated firmly.

"The Boss is pretty clear on this. I can't let ya in unless you're by your lonesome."

The Courier sighed, defeated. "Okay." She turned to her group. "Guys, mind waiting for me here? I'll try not to be long. And... I'm sorry."

"Hey, no problem, Boss."

"Yeah, we'll just, heh... enjoy the sights." Veronica told her, her eyes glancing to a nearby prostitute dancing in front of Gomorrah.

"Okay. I'll head in alone, Victor."

"Enjoy your visit!"

The giant steel doors at the base of the tower slid open, revealing the true doorways leading inside the dark casino.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"This meeting has been a long time coming, hasn't it? You've come a long ways, literally and, I suspect, figuratively as well. I have to ask. Now that you've reached your destination, what do you make of what you see?"

Honestly, the Courier hadn't suspected Mr. House to just be a face on the screen of a computer console. Nor did she expect him to have two securitron women named Jane and Marilyn collecting snow globes for him. The Courier took a seat pretzel-style on the rug in front of the computer console, staring up at the giant monitor with awe.

"Um, it's... uh... Certainly like nothing I've seen before?"

"Of course it is. Vegas always was one of a kind. What you see down on the Strip is just a fraction of the city's former glory, and yet... more than an echo. I preserved its spirit. Or perhaps you were referring to the Lucky 38? The years haven't been kind to her, but still she manages to impress."

"But, um... Why... Why the VIP treatment? I'm just a Courier, sir. An amnesiac one, at that..."

"Oh, don't be coy. You've been playing a high-stakes game ever since Victor dug you out of the ground. Don't be afraid to admit it."

"What? Uh, nevermind. Just... Tell me, why did you ask to see me? Do you need something from me, sir?"

"What I need is this. One of my employees has stolen an item of extraordinary value from me, and I want it recovered. Simple enough?"

"The Platinum Chip? Why?"

"That's for me to know."

"Okay, then... what... What terms are you offering?"

"My only concern is the recovery of the Platinum Chip. What happens to Benny, I leave to your discretion. When you bring the Chip to me, I will pay you four times the delivery bonus stipulated in your contract. How's that?"

The Courier gazed down at the floor. "I... Well, money doesn't mean much to me, sir. I'm more interested in finding out who I am..."

"Hm. Simple enough. I'll just use all the resources and databanks I have to find any record of who you were prior to Benny's ambush at Goodsprings. Is that fair?"

The Courier looked up, smiling. "Yes! Thank you so much, Mr. House, sir! But... How do you propose I get the Chip back?"

"It won't be easy. Benny is always surrounded by at least four bodyguards... Except when he's in his private suite on the thirteenth floor of the Tops."

"Um... I'd like to get it back without hurting Benny. Any suggestions?"

"If you were to approach Benny in public, you might be able to leverage his fear of exposure to make him agree to meet with you in private. Better yet, look for a man named Swank, Benny's second-in-command. He's always been a reliable, if unimaginative, employee. If you have evidence of Benny's scheme, he may be willing to help when he realizes Benny does not have the Chairmen's best interests at heart."

"Okay. Um... I'll go discuss things with my friends."

"That gaggle of miscreants with you? Hm. I'll tell you what. There are several suites here at the Lucky 38, all unused. The Presidential Suite in particular was designed for a person of diplomatic importance, so it includes all the necessary facilities and even extra beds for bodyguards and relatives the diplomat may be travelling with. It's yours, for free, right now, just to sweeten the deal. You can use it as a clubhouse for your... little friends."

The Courier's face lit up. "Really? You mean... We'll have a home?"

"More like a home _base_, but yes."

"Thanks so much, Mr. House, sir!" She jumped up and hugged the console.

"Hm. Unusual to hug a computer console. But then again, eccentricities are to be expected of someone like you, one who manages to get things done."

"Huh? Get things done?"

"Of course. Just look at all your accomplishments since waking up in Goodsprings. You defended that Podunk town of Goodsprings from a Powder Ganger attack, helped some delirious ghouls get into space, settled a hostage situation between the NCR and Great Khans, and I've heard you've done many interesting, if pointless, things for the cesspool they call Freeside. You are a person who can get things done. Your legion of followers is a testament to your leadership skills. That's why I'm so interested in you. You could make a useful second-in-command. I was originally considering Benny, until he turned on me."

"Well... I don't know about that, but... Oh! What about Bess? Where will she stay?"

"Bess? Who is Bess?"

"Um... Our pack brahmin."

"Ah. I see. I'll tell you what. I know the location of a Wrecked Highwayman. It could easily be restored to working order if you-"

"Wait... Are you suggesting I get rid of Bess?"

"Of course. Brahmin are just-"

"No! Bess is family! We're all family! Bess has worked hard for us, and I have no intention of giving her up to anyone or anything! Just tell me where she can stay, or I'm leaving right now!"

There it was... her eye glowed red. House knew he was making the right choice. "Very well. There is a brahmin stable to the left of the gate to Freeside. For a fee, your brahmin can stay there and be taken care of. I'd even be willing to pay for these services for you, since you're so attached to your two-headed bovine."

"Really? That you so much, Mr. House, sir!"

"It's no trouble. Now, you best go get your... little friends. Victor will take you all of you to your suite. The suite is ready for living in, but I'll have Jane and Marilyn make some last minute touches to it. A bit of a... woman's touch, I suppose."

"Um... Mind if I ask you a few more questions, sir?"

"I suppose. Go ahead."

"Uh... Who... Who are you, really?"

"I am Robert Edwin House, President, CEO, and sole proprietor of the New Vegas Strip. I oversaw the city's renovations starting from 2274 onwards. The Three Families are my employees. Before the Great War of 2077, I was founder, President, and CEO of RobCo Industries, a vast computer and robotics corporation."

"Um... You seem to be a computer, not a man, sir."

"Don't let the video screens and computer terminals fool you. I'm flesh and blood, not tubes and tapes."

"But... How have you stayed alive all this time?"

"Let's just say it was very... costly. But I was willing to make the sacrifices longevity entailed, financial and otherwise."

"But... The lifespan you're claiming is impossible, except for ghouls and super mutants."

"I see you've made a study of the topic. My knowledge of the studies of longevity would fill several textbooks. Perhaps, after a decade or two of economic reconstruction, I can commercialize these technologies and offer them to others, such as yourself.

"Uh... What... What can you tell me about Victor, sir? He can swap from one securitron to another?"

"Yes. He belongs to me. A mobile AI capable of transmitting from one Securitron to another. I had him hire the six Couriers himself, then had him track the carrier of the Platinum Chip. You, obviously."

"But… Why didn't you intervene sooner when Benny ambushed me?"

"Why didn't Victor intervene sooner, you mean? Goodsprings is a bit too far away for me to reliably control a securitron agent by remote. I can send and receive packets of data, at best. Victor's combat algorithms determined the proper course of action. Benny and his thugs were more than a match for a lone securitron. When he alerted me, I instructed him to approach the site after Benny and the others had departed."

"So, you mean... He didn't save me out of the kindness of his own heart?"

"Of course not. He's a machine. He doesn't have a heart."

"But... why did he lie all this time?"

"Well, at the time, I couldn't be sure you could be trusted with these tasks."

"I... see..."

"What? Thought he was your knight in shining armor?"

The Courier blushed. "No! Not at all! I just..." She sighed.

"Despite what you may think, I haven't missed chatting with another human being all that much. Jane and Marilyn keep me plenty..." he chuckled. "Entertained. Go retrieve your... little friends. The Presidential Suite will be ready by the time you get there."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The Lucky 38 Presidential Suite was... dark. Very dark. But luckily there were numerous light switches that lit the place up. The group split up and explored the multiple-room suite. They regrouped back in the foyer.

"What'd you find?" The Courier asked.

"There's a workshop, so I can craft ammo for you and Raul can build or fix things."

"It's awesome! There's a full kitchen and dining room! It has a working fridge, oven, electric hot plate, sink, and there's even Nuka-Cola and Sunset Sarsaparilla vending machines!" Neiila chirped.

"The bathroom has a shower stall and pretty large bath tub with rad-free water. It'll be nice to have a good, hot soak." Cass sighed contentedly at the though.

"Small shooting range, it looks like. Probably for a diplomat's bodyguards to stay sharp." Boone remarked.

"There's a laundry room with a working washer and dryer! I'll be happy to do laundry for all you little munchkins!"

"There's a bare counter in the laundry room where Skynet can set up his chemistry set." Arcade explained.

"Skynet found working television set and numerous intact holotapes with movies and music."

"There's enough bodyguard beds for each of us, and even wardrobes and vanities. I guess the Courier gets the cushy bed and office in the master bedroom." Rocket remarked.

"Well, how about to start us off, Neiila cooks a big dinner for us!" Raul suggested.

"Happy to, Raul!" Neiila giggled.

They were treated to a dinner of what Neiila called baked potato soup. She claimed the left over shells of the potatoes could be used to make potato skins next time, too.

"Ya know, Neiila..." Veronica began over dinner. "I think it's okay for you to let us see your deformity. I mean, after all, Raul and Rocket are ghouls, Lily is a super mutant, and Skynet is a robot. Besides, we're all friends here."

"No." The Courier shook her head. "We're more than friends. We're family."

"I don't know about that, but-"

"No, we are. Neiila, I think it's safe for everyone to know your secret."

"Ya sure, Courier?"

"Yes. I'm sure. You should still wear the cloak and hood in public, but when we're alone I think it's safe for you to take it off."

"Well, okay." The alien reached up and pulled her hood down. There was silence for quite a while.

"So... You're some kind of toad person?" Rocket finally asked.

"No. I'm... an alien."

"Oh." Cass simply said.

"Just... Oh?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's surprising..." Arcade began.

"But we've known you long enough to know you're all right." Veronica finished for him.

"I didn't even know aliens existed, but I suppose it explains all the lights I saw in the sky over Hidalgo Ranch growing up." Raul joked.

"Skynet knew aliens existed."

"What." Boone said.

"Skynet was built years before other AIs because it was based on alien technology. Skynet also knew about UFOs stored at Area 51."

"Well, you learn something new every day, don't you, dearies?"

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Hey there! I have a message for you!"

An NCR trooper greeted them the moment they stepped out of the Lucky 38. "Um... Yes?" the Courier squeaked.

"It's from Ambassador Crocker. Very important. Here you go!" He handed her an envelope before running off.

"Um... Who's Ambassador Crocker?"

"Dennis Crocker. NCR's ambassador for the New Vegas strip. Important man." Boone explained.

The Courier tore open the letter and took a look at what it said. "Um... It says Ambassador Crocker wants to meet with me. I'd rather we go to The Tops first, though."

"Fine by me." Boone replied.

They took to walking down the street, drawing looks and whispers. At first the Courier thought it was probably because they had two ghouls, two robots, and a super mutant with them. Then she realized they had just exited the Lucky 38, where no living thing had entered since the War."

"Skynet sees someone."

The Courier looked up to the robobrain. "What?"

"The human with the hat. That is Caleb McCaffery."

The Courier looked to see a man in a duster and a hat chatting up a hooker in front of Gomorrah. "Are you sure, Skynet?"

"Affirmative. Skynet saw picture on wall for employment performance recognition."

"Stay here, guys. I'll go talk to him alone."

"If you say so." Cass replied.

"Just hope you know what you're doing, Boss."

The Courier walked up, the man immediately turning away from the Hooker and staring straight down at her cleavage. Stupid prospector dress! "Heh. So the Garrets sent you to track me down? What a joke." He said.

"What? How did you know?"

"I admit, you're a bit too pretty for a bounty hunter..." The Courier blushed. "But I can spot someone workin' for the Garrets a mile away. Something tells me, though, you're not here to kill me."

"No. I just need some of the caps back and your hat and you can go free."

"Now why the hell should I do that? You're below me, kid. I've been killing scum twice your size since before your mother squeezed you out."

The Courier tried to stand her ground, and hide the quivering in her voice. "I just need your hat and you're a free man, Mr. McCaffery, sir. I'll tell Francine you're dead."

"Hmm... Well that sounds like a bit of a bargain. I get to walk free with the Garrets thinkin' I'm dead. Sure, you can have my hat. I can always buy another with the caps I've got left. Would have been more fun fighting it out, though. See ya later, kid."

He handed her a handful of caps and his hat. "Thank you for being reasonable, Mr. McCaffery, sir."

"Yeah, yeah. Just get out of here."

The Courier returned to her group. "Cass, could you please take Veronica to go return the hat and caps to Miss Garret?"

"Sure, Courier. You got it." Cass replied, taking the caps and hat.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

A man in a suit greeted them once inside the Tops.

"Hey hey, baby doll. Welcome to the Tops Hotel and Casino. I'm gonna have to ask you to hand over any weapons you might be carryin'."

"Why do you need our guns?" the Courier asked him.

"Security, baby. Can't make the bread if the bakers are full of lead, you dig it? Don't worry, you're safe as houses in here, courtesy of _Mr._ House."

"Um... We just came in to talk to Swank."

"Even so, I need you to hand over your weapons. He may be just behind the front counter, goin' with the flow of things, but we don't allow anyone to carry weapons in this ring-a-ding place, you get me?"

The Courier sighed. "Fine. I don't have any guns, though. My friends do."

Grumbling, Boone handed over his prized sniper rifle and trench knife, Arcade his plasma defender and ripper, Raul his .357 revolvers and spanner, Lily her vertibird blade, Neiila her alien disintegrator and shock baton, Rocket her flamer, and Skynet his gauss rifle and super sledge. Rocket was smirking, though. They hadn't checked her for the large supply of explosives stashed in her clothes. They probably figured with a huge flamethrower on her back, she wouldn't have any need for additional weapons. Their mistake if worse came to worse.

"Smooth and easy, just the way I like it. Don't worry, they'll be as safe as kittens till you're ready to leave. Oh, and a friendly word of advice. If ya happen to 'stumble across' any weapons during your stay here, well... just don't wear them openly. You dig? Now that we got that little business out of the way, what can I do to make you're your Tops experience the tops?"

"Um... Where did you say Swank was, again, sir?"

"Just over there, behind the counter. Have a ring-a-ding time at the Tops, baby doll."

"Um... Th-Thank you."

She made her way to the counter, Swank looking up from his papers to view her. To his credit, he didn't look at her cleavage. "Hello, baby! Welcome to the Tops! What can I do for you?"

"Um... Are you Swank, sir?"

"Name's Swank, yeah. And baby, I'm the best thing that ever happened to you. This here's my joint."

"Uh... I thought Benny ran this place..."

"Benny oversees the business, sure, but I run the Tops day to day. I'm his right-hand guy, you dig?"

"Um..." She leaned in, lowering her voice. "I think you should know something about Benny."

"Really? You got somethin' to say about the big boss, huh? Well why don't you say it to his face instead of yappin' at me?"

"Um... I don't think you're going to like it. Benny's been making his own play."

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

"Benny tried to kill me and stole a platinum chip I was hired to deliver."

"That doesn't... why would he pull a stunt like that? Got anything else to offer?"

"He tried to make it look like an accident. Just a traveler killed and robbed in the wasteland."

"He's tryin' to pull a fast one on the big man? Crazy bastard. You got any more?"

"Yes! I have evidence!" The Courier set her pack on the ground, rooting through it.

"Evidence?"

She dumped the ten cigarette butts on the counter. "See? I found these cigarette butts by the grave he buried me in. You'll notice they aren't Big Boss like most people smoke."

Swank picked one up and examined it. "Huh. Well, yeah, okay, these are Benny's brand, and they ain't too common. You got anything else?"

"I found this note that proves Benny was in Novac with some Great Khans, and I have the work request for hired thugs he put out." She handed him the notes she got from Manny Vargas and Jessup.

Swank gave them a read over. "That's... pretty shady, yeah. Could be Benny's up to no good, could be this is somebody else altogether. What else you got?"

She saved the best for last. "This is Benny's lighter. He dropped it in Boulder City when he turned on the Great Khans he hired." She handed it to him.

"Yeah, that looks like Benny's lighter all right. Custom engraved and all. Not another like it in the world. Jesus, kid, I think we got a real problem on our hands. Can't believe Benny's a no-good stinkin' punk. Tryin' to play House like that... Tell you what, I'll call Benny, keep him away from his suite. You go search the place. Here's the key, it's on the thirteenth floor. It's the room with the double doors. Can't miss it. Maybe you'll find something we can show to Mr. House and get him arrested." He handed her an ornate silver hotel key, obviously meant for the best suite in the hotel.

"Thank you, Mr. Swank. This means so much to me... you have no idea." She wiped a tear from her eye.

"Don't thank me yet. There's a problem. Benny's havin' a party in his suite right now, and won't come out for anythin' till it's done. Come back tomorrow morning, and I'll have Benny away from his suite by then."

"That's fine, then. Thank you."

"Groovy. Oh, and I'll tell the boys to give you a pass to pack some heat, in case you run into company, you dig?"

"Thank you so much, Swank!"

"No problem, baby."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The Courier had to ease herself into the bathtub. She wasn't used to a hot soak. The Atomic Wrangler only had tiny shower stalls. This was her first time enjoying a good bath since waking up in goodsprings. The heat felt almost scalding at first to each new part of her body she dipped in. When she finally submerged to her chest, she leaned back against the edge of the bathtub and released a sigh of relief. The hot water felt wonderful on her aching body. With a grimace, she noted her breasts bobbing on the surface of the water. She wasn't sure how many times she said this to herself, but this would be the first time she said it out loud. "Stupid boobs!"

"Yeah, I suppose not everyone's can be the perfect size like mine."

Before the Courier could turn around, two hands reached out from behind her and grabbed her bare breasts. She gave a shriek as the hands began squeezing and rubbing them.

"Cass, cut that out!" Neiila's voice called.

"Fine, fine." The merchant leg go, climbing into the bathtub with the Courier.

"Cass!" The Courier crossed her arms over her breasts defensively, a deep crimson blush on her face. "What are you doing in here? I'm taking a bath!"

"Hey, you said we were family."

The Courier looked to see Veronica enter, along with Neiila, Rocket, and Lily. All of them stark naked... well, except Veronica, who was wearing a towel around her head to hide her hair.

"Well, I... I guess I said that, didn't I?"

"Besides, we're all girls here."

The Courier shot a glance to Veronica. "I promise I won't stare! Honest!" the scribe pleaded.

The Courier sighed. "Fine. Just... try not to make this weird? Please?"

"You betcha!" Neiila giggled.

Veronica stepped into the shower stall, while Neiila and Rocket slipped into the tub with Cass and the Courier. "Ya know, I know we're all girls here, but... Neiila, does your species even have genders?" Rocket asked.

"What? Of course we do! I'm the gender that lays the eggs. Duh!"

"What. You lay eggs?"

"Of course! All amphibians do, silly."

"You're an amphibian?"

"Warm-blooded, but yes."

"And how old are you?"

"I'm a hundred and forty-two, of course."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah! I'm barely more than a child, really. We live to be about five hundred and forty-two, though some of our elders live to be about eight hundred and forty-two."

The Courier turned to Lily. She... Well, she seemed to have the proper female anatomy. But she was fairly certain super mutants were sterile. "Lily, why are you just standing there?"

"Oh, that tub isn't big enough to hold all of you plus me. I'll just wait my turn, dearies. For now, I'm just enjoying being with you all."

Dammit... she was really hoping for some alone time in the bath with thoughts of Boone and her hands in... places...

"Rocket! Your skin's coming off in the bath!"

"Oh, that's just the excess flakes. Nothin' to worry about."

"It's gross! They're floating all around me!"

"Well! _Excuse_ me for bein' a ghoul."

"Hey, Rocket!" Veronica called from the shower stall. "You sad you won't get boobs for a few thousand years?"

Nah... Maybe this was better.

"Ya can't see right now, but I'm flippin' ya the bird, V."

Definitely better.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

He heard the sound as someone stepped up to his bed. The shuffling noise made it obvious someone was there, even in the dark and with his back turned. "Who is it?" he asked.

"Um... I'm... I'm sorry... I-It's me... the Courier..." She sounded scared, like she hadn't known he'd be awake, let alone know she was there when she snuck up.

"What do you want? You have your own room and your own bed."

"I... I just wanted to see you." her tiny voice said.

"Why? Is something wrong?"

"I was... having a nightmare..." came her whimper. "I was wondering if I could stay here with you tonight..."

"I don't want any of the others to catch us." He responded harshly.

"I'll be back out before sunrise..." was her meek reply.

"Fine. But just sleeping. Nothing else."

"Okay..." she breathed.

He turned to look at her. Luckily, his jaw didn't drop. But he couldn't stop his eyebrow from raising.

She was naked. Breasts and womanhood bare to the night air. The sight was quite a shock. "Kid? What are you doing?" he asked, the caution in his voice making it obvious he was treading lightly.

"I-It's okay..." she stammered. Even in the dark, he could tell she was blushing from her cheeks down to her collarbone. "J-Just sleeping. I... I promise."

Sighing, he laid back down, his arm under the pillow. The bed shifted as she climbed in behind him. He tried his hardest to fall asleep right then and there, but his back stiffened when he felt warmth against him... unbelievably soft skin... A hand wrapped over his arm, a head nestled against the nape of his neck, soft breasts pressed against the muscles of his bare back. Her warm breath hit the sensitive skin, making him cringe.

"Kid? What in God's name are you doing?" he asked. His voice was harsher than he intended it. She swallowed hard.

"Just... um... Just sleeping. N-Nothing more..."

He turned to roll on his back, and she shifted position, resting her head on his shoulder, a hand grasping his pectoral, and his arm nestled between her hefty breasts. He could've sworn he'd never felt anything as soft and warm as her breasts wrapped around his bicep.

"Kid... This isn't right."

She sighed, sniffing in his scent. Groaning, he sat up, sliding out from his bed and walking to grab his pants and shirt.

"B... Boone?"

He looked. She was sitting up, resting on her shins, with both arms on her lap, an unsure look in her soft brown eye.

"It's not you... It's me." Boone said, albeit half-heartedly.

"But... Boone... I..." Her voice came out in a whisper.

"Listen, kid. I said it before, but I guess you need reminding. I'm not your friend. This relationship is strictly professional. You treat me like a proper bodyguard, and I treat you like some kid who doesn't know how to handle herself in the wastes. That's how it goes. We don't get friendly. We don't get cozy. We don't get close."

She looked completely dumbfounded. Even he had to admit, he was being harsh. But this was something he needed to be firm about. "But... But, Boone... you don't...?" she almost whimpered.

"I don't have any interest in you, kid. Not even for a one night stand. If you try anything like that again, I'm leaving and heading back to Novac." He turned and walked to the door.

"Boone..." he stopped, his hand on the doorknob, when he heard her voice. "Where are you going?"

"To the bar. Feel free to sleep in my bed if you want."

And he left, leaving the Courier sitting there, at a loss for words.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Rose of Sharon Cassidy downed yet another shot of whiskey. Ordinarily she'd be chugging it straight from the bottle, but tonight she wanted to space out the magic elixir in small amounts. She wanted to be able to think while under a buzz, not pass out from inebriation. At least, tonight.

To her surprise, she heard the elevator open. Huh. She honestly didn't expect anyone else to come to the Lucky 38 lounge at this time of night aside from her. When she looked, it was Craig Boone. Dressed only in his pants and shirt. She had to admit, it was the first time she had seen him without his beret and shades at the same time. She had no idea he was shaved bald. She invited him over, which he accepted, albeit hesitantly. It wasn't like he was dressed too casually. She was only wearing her jeans and blouse, after all.

"Looks like you're up late, sniper." Cass greeted, handing him a bottle of scotch. He shook his head at the drink.

"Not tonight. Feel like sharing the whiskey?"

She could only chuckle at his deep, rough voice. She grabbed another shot glass and poured him one. He lifted the glass to her in thanks, and they both downed theirs at the same time. Sighing with content, Cass turned to her new drinking partner and gave him a wry smile. "So, what brings you here? Couldn't sleep?" she asked.

"You could say that." He responded stoically.

"Care to share? I've got stories of my own."

Boone sighed. "Just... trouble with younger women."

Cass just chuckled. "You too, huh?" Boone only raised his brow at her. "You first." she insisted.

Boone sighed once again. "The kid walks into the room, says she can't sleep. Asks to curl up in bed with me. And she's completely naked."

Cass shook her head, a small laugh escaping her. "I had a feeling this would happen. I wish our little Courier had talked to me before trying to seduce you. I could tell you didn't have any interest in her."

Boone just nodded, downing another shot of whiskey. "Your turn, I guess. Trouble with younger women?"

It was the merchant's turn to sigh, despite the smile on her face. "Veronica. The poor kid. Walks out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, even one around her head. Tried to seduce me herself, the naive young thing." She downed another shot.

"Around her head? Oh, right. The hair thing."

"Yep. Even when she's trying to be sexy, she's still shy about her hair. Well... I just told her I wasn't anywhere near drunk enough to consider sleeping with her, and she didn't take it well. I left her up there to cool down. No way I'm heading back up there with her in that rejected state."

Boone downed another shot before responding. "Hm. Younger women problems for the both of us."

"Yep." Cass downed another shot. "You should try an older woman instead." She joked, thrusting her chest out teasingly. To her surprise, Boone actually laughed.

"And you should try a younger man instead." He joked back.

They each downed one more shot of whiskey, then laughed again, turning to look at each other. Then... their eyes met. And Cass can't be certain what happened next... Maybe it was the whiskey. Maybe it was the time of night. Hell, it might've been because they were both just propositioned by someone they had no interest in. But their lips locked. What followed was a stumbling journey to the lounge sofas, pulling off the other's clothing, what little they wore. His hands on her breasts, her arms around his neck, their mouths devouring each other. They landed on the sofa with a thud, the sniper trailing kisses down the merchant's neck. She grasped the back of his head, guiding him to the small bud of her nipple. Her breasts weren't as big as the Courier's, but she was damn proud of them. He sucked and flicked the bud with his tongue a while before he continued his ministrations down her chest, to her abdomen, eliciting a ticklish giggle when his lips touched her navel. He looked up, smirking at her. She swallowed hard at his devilish look. Shit. He had found her weak spot. He started a hostile attack from his lips and tongue on her sensitive belly button, sending her squirming and flailing, fingers digging into his back as she sucked in air through her teeth. Damn, this guy knew how to use his tongue. And she hadn't had anyone find out about her Achilles heel in years. She could feel her womanhood already getting sopping wet from the stimulation he was giving her sensitive navel. Finally, her teeth grit, she shouted for him to stop. He looked up, and she gripped his shoulders. She flipped him, so she was on top, her head hovering over his erect member.

"Well... Now I see what got a New Vegas city girl interested in an NCR country boy."

She lightly touched the tip of her lips to his head, chuckling at the sharp intake of breath it caused him. She gave a subtle kiss to the side of his shaft, then a lick. Her tongue glided up and down his manhood, pausing now and then to dip its entire length in her mouth and out. One hand steadied the instrument for her mouth, while the other tickled and fondled his sack, massaging and stroking his balls. She could tell it was driving him nuts.

"C-Cass! Dammit!"

"Oh, already?" Cass smirked. "Not yet. Not like this."

She pulled herself up on top of him, reaching down to take hold of his manhood, brushing the tip against her lower lips. She shivered at the feel. "Get ready, sniper." She breathed, and plunged his length into her. Wiggling her hips, she lowered herself to his hilt, clenching and unclenching her muscles around his hard member as she lowered down on it. He was struggling to stop from throwing his head back at the sensation. She leaned forward, pressing her breasts against his chest, and took his mouth to hers once more. She slipped her tongue out against his teeth, and he parted them, sucking her tongue as it explored his mouth, dancing with his own tongue. She gyrated her hips on his shaft just carefully enough to prolong his building pressure for several minutes, yet not stimulate him enough for a release.

"Shit, Cass! I'm gonna...!"

Despite her straight face and subtle smirk, she had to admit, she was incredibly flustered on the inside. She couldn't remember it ever feeling this good before. Every five seconds, she had to swallow the urge to moan. Finally, it was too much for her. "Aw, fuck it!"

She allowed the sniper to flip her to her back, pounding into her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her in-control facade fading as she moaned, groaned, and cried out in pleasure. She did her best to move her hips in time with his thrusts, but his pace was quickening as the minutes rolled by.

"Cass... I'm... I'm gonna...!"

"Do it! Do it! Let me have it!" she cried.

With a mighty push forward, he released in her. He immediately relaxed in her arms, and she enjoyed the warmth of his body as they fell asleep in post-coital bliss. Tomorrow they'd probably be sore all over and have one hell of a hangover, but... hey, it was worth the best fuck she'd had in years. And probably the first fuck he'd had since his wife died. As her mind faded into dreamland, she idly wondered if Carla would be okay with what they just did... she forced down the twinge of guilt, and sighed contentedly against the sniper's muscled chest.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"That was an awesome party, Benny! See ya next time!"

Benny lit another cigarette. Granted, they just didn't taste as good without his old lighter. He'd looked everywhere for it, but so far no trace of it. It's possible he lost it during his little expedition, but no way could he get it back if that was true.

"Boss." One of his four bodyguards nudged him. "Code Charlie."

Ah, Code Charlie. Employee code for when a ring-a-ding doll was in sight. The head of the Chairmen followed his bodyguard's subtle head nod to, indeed, see a primo hottie sitting at the bar, nursing a margarita. "I'm goin' for this one, boys. Go ahead and take five for the night, you dig? Don't want to intimidate her."

His bodyguards chuckled to themselves, one of them giving Benny a pat on the shoulder as he began a leisurely stroll to this mystery woman. He'd definitely never seen her in his casino before. She was short, yeah, but she had dangerous curves. Chocolate skin. Wild white hair flowing down to the middle of her back, with bangs hanging in front of her forehead and right eye. He always loved when ladies covered an eye with their bangs. Always made them seem so mysterious. This one was wearing a little black dress, made from some material that reflected the lights of the bar. It came down to just where her ass ended and her thighs began, and was low cut enough to show off the cleavage of the juiciest, largest charlies he'd ever seen. The black strappy heels probably made her an inch or two taller, but hey, shorter she was, easier it was for him to stare down her dress. Odd, though, was the Pip-Boy on her left wrist. She probably came from a vault, or something.

"Hey, baby doll. What's a good-lookin' girl like you doin' drinkin' alone?" He threw some caps on the counter. "Barkeep! Martini over here, and another margarita for the baby doll, on the house."

"Free drink? You sure now the proper way to proposition a girl. I assume you work here?" she asked, not turning to look at him.

Ooo, that voice. Low and husky. The kind that send a shiver up your spine and made the hair on your neck stand up. "Better, baby. I own this place. Benny, leader of the Chairmen." He sat down on the stool next to her and offered his hand to shake. She didn't react, and still wasn't looking at him.

"You must be new to Vegas, baby. Need ol' Benny to show ya the ropes?"

"Tempting, but no. I'd rather just have a little chat while I finish my drink."

"Hey, sure thing, baby. What brings you to New Vegas?"

"I'm here on business."

"Really? What kinda business?"

She turned her head just slightly, and he saw her only revealed eye, which seemed to be glowing red. "I'm a courier."

Courier? That sounded familiar. "Really? And who are ya deliverin' to?"

"Oh, I'm afraid that's the thing, big guy. I was hired to deliver a very important item." She turned to face him now, revealing quite a pretty face. Her eye really was glowing red, too. She placed a hand on his thigh, dangerously close to his groin. "But it was stolen from me. I'm trying to get it back."

Right now, the sexual tension was too high to catch the hidden meaning behind that. Control of Benny's thoughts had been transferred from his brain to his libido. "Stealin' from a courier? That's low, baby. Any way I can help?"

"Oh, there are plenty of ways you could help, big guy. But I'd rather I help you."

Shit! Was she coming on to him? "Like how?"

"For starters, I should pay you for that free drink." She leaned forward and traced a finger up the seam of his pants. He nearly recoiled at the touch. "Consider that a start."

Holy shit! Wait... "Hang on... Do I know ya from somewhere, baby?"

The girl smiled a mysterious smile. "Maybe. I suppose you might have known me in another life. Another of my lives." She blew a puff of breath up from her lips, causing her long bangs to fly up, and Benny froze. A circular scar was on her forehead, spikes sticking out from it in oblong directions, obviously from a point-blank bullet to the head. There was an identical scar around her right eye, but instead of a patch of lighter-colored skin in the center circle, there was just an empty eye socket. Benny's feet went cold as the realization hit him. Just one word summed this up. Fuck.

"What in the goddamn...?" He swallowed hard. Crap. If he pulled Maria on her, everyone would get suspicious. "Let's keep this in the groove, hey? Smooth moves. Smooth..." Still, he kept his hand ready to grab the only girl who'd never let him down from his jacket at any time. That's when another revelation dawned on him. "Hello! That broad everyone saw go in the Lucky 38? That was you? Oh, shit."

The girl only giggled alluringly. "When you shot me, you ran off so fast I never got your name." she nearly purred.

"You makin' a pass at me sister? Because I'm out of your league."

"Is it wrong to want a guy who'd shoot me in the head?"

"Did those bullets scramble your egg? Or have you always been a naughty broad...?"

"Girls like bad boys. And you've been downright awful."

"You're one sick pussycat, baby. There's quins and then there's... I don't even know what to call you."

"I'm saying I dig you, despite it all. What do you say?"

"I hear 'dig' from you, babe, and all I can think of is a shovel. How can this be? This ain't forgiveness, it's something... wrong."

"I'm a courier, remember? Don't you want me to handle your package?" She licked her lips suggestively.

Okay, okay... He was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. "All right, honey baby, this is all kinds of wrong, but to my suite it is. Thirteenth floor. Follow me."

The girl gracefully slid off the stool and followed behind Benny. He chanced a glance behind him to see a gentle sway to her hips as she walked, one leg in front of the other, like walking on a tightrope. Shit, this girl knew how to walk, too! She sashayed patiently behind him, rode the elevator to the thirteenth floor, and followed him into his suite. He stopped at the bed.

"Benny's gonna show you the tops! I hope you're built sturdy, you crazy broad."

The girl let out a low giggle, reaching up to glide her hand lightly over his chest. "Let's see what you've been hiding under that checked suit." she cooed.

"More than you ever dreamed, baby."

She grabbed the collar of his jacket, yanking the checkered garment off and down his body. Climbing onto him, she attacked his mouth, Benny reaching his hands down to grasp her ass and support her. She didn't ask for permission for her tongue to enter his mouth. She forced herself in, with movements as if trying to savor every last bit of his saliva. He stepped forward and set her on the bed, pulling away to catch his breath.

"You're platinum, pussycat! You know how to swing!" She reached down and yanked his pants down, fingers lingering over the bulge in his boxers, while he pulled the straps of her dress down to bare her breasts.

"Nice charlies, too. Give 'em a shake for the Ben-man, will ya?" Smirking, she shimmied her shoulders back and forth, her H-cups flopping about two and fro. "Hello!" Benny exclaimed in approval, leaning down to squeeze and attack them with his hands and mouth.

"Damn, biggest damn charlies I ever seen! And on such a tiny broad!" While he assaulted her breasts, she used her now bare feet to lower his boxers, taking ahold of his manhood between the heels of her feet.

"Christ, girlie! Eager for the Ben-man, are ya?"

He stood up as she crawled across the bed on her hands and knees toward his manhood. He thought she was going to give him a blowjob, but boy was he surprised when his manhood was submerged between two pairs of the softest flesh he had ever felt. "Holy shit, babe!"

He nearly fell backward when she licked his tip with her tongue as she slid her breasts up and down on it, squeezed it between them.

"Fuck! Ya crazy broad!"

"Happy to." she purred.

They continued for well into the night. As they laid out under the covers, Benny's arms and legs spread on his back, she slid up next to him and rested her head on his shoulder, breasts pressed against his abdomen, as she traced her finger over his muscled chest.

"That was a nice bit a hey-hey, girlie. You're a real ring-a-ding broad."

A low giggle. "You weren't so bad yourself."

"Hold me, will ya? I swear you wore me out."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The Courier awoke to find herself in an unfamiliar situation. Completely naked, sprawled out under the covers of a foreign bed and strange room. She had no memory of how she got there. Last thing she knew, she had tried to seduce Boone, but... She didn't remember anything after that. Not even going to bed. Sliding out from under the covers, she found a note wedged between her breasts. Pulling it out, she gave it a read.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

_Pussycat -_

_Thanks for showing this cat the best hey-hey he's ever-ever! Talk about platinum in the sack, toots! Where'd you learn that 18 karat trick with the heels of your feet? You didn't make my toes curl - they popped off and rolled under the bed!_

_I wish I could stay for another round, but this gent's got places to be, things to do. You showing up has forced my hand, baby! The time to act is now!_

_I won't be around for awhile, but if everything works out right, you and me are a date, got it? Wouldn't miss it for all the caps in Vegas._

_Now don't get clingy and try to follow me._

_Ciao,_

_Benny_

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Hey... hey? Did she... No, she couldn't have. Could she? She scanned the note into her Pip-Boy and stepped off the bed. From the looks of it, her clothes were nowhere to be found. She opened the door to a closet to see if her clothes were in it, but instead she found a massive hole in the wall. She stepped through to find a steel room full of computers, a single securitron with a smiling face on his screen greeting her.

"Hey! Hi there, good to meet you! What can I do for you today?" he asked in an overly cheerful voice.

"Um... What... What are you doing here?"

"Good question! My function is to monitor Mr. House's data network, and decode his encrypted transmissions! Allow me to introduce myself! I'm a PDQ-88b securitron, but you can call me Yes Man!"

"Um... Shouldn't you be working for Mr. House? How'd you end up here?"

"As I understand it, I used to be just like all those other securitrons out on the Strip. But then my neuro-computational matrix was completely reprogrammed! To be nice! Very, very nice!"

"Uh... Benny reprogrammed a securitron? All by himself?"

"Oh, he had some help. A lady friend of his! She said something about living in a Fort over in Freeside, but that's all I remember!"

"Um... what is this place?"

"This is Benny's workshop. When the Tops got renovated, he had this half of the floor blocked off for his own use. I guess you could say it's my entire world! I don't think I've ever left this room! But that's okay. I'm not complaining!"

"Okay. Uh... Have you seen Benny?"

"Sure! He came through here in a big hurry. Didn't even stop to say hello! I think he went down his secret escape elevator out in the hall!"

"Um... Benny stole a Platinum Chip from me. Do you know what it's for?"

"Sure! Benny had me look at it a bunch of times! It's a data storage device, kind of like a holotape, but a lot more advanced! As for what's on it, well... Some of Mr. House's data transmissions made it sound like the Chip could upgrade his defenses somehow! That's just a guess, though. The Chip's a proprietary format! You'd need special hardware to read the data on it. There are two locations with non-standard hardware on the network. The Lucky 38, and an underground facility at Fortification Hill. I'd look there!"

"Huh? But... What's Benny planning to do with the Chip?"

"Oh! He wants to kill Mr. House and use the Platinum Chip to copy my neuro-computational matrix onto the Lucky 38's mainframe. That should give me control over all of Mr. House's defenses, most prominently his securitrons! And then I just do what Benny tells me! Easy-peasy!"

"You're, um... very forthcoming with that information, Mr. Yes Man, sir."

"I was programmed to be helpful and answer any questions I was asked. I guess nobody bothered to restrict who I answer questions for. That was probably pretty dumb, huh?"

"Okay, uh... D-Do you know where my clothes are?"

"Well, sure! They're being laundered!"

"What? Why?"

"Because you're Benny's woman now!"

"I... I am?"

"Yep! Don't worry, there's a robe for you over on the chair in the bedroom. Just wear that as you go to breakfast!"

"Breakfast?"

"Of course! You're Benny's woman now! That means you're a VIP of the highest caliber!"

"Um... Okay? I guess I'll be going now..."

"Come back later if you need anything!"

Sure ambled back into the bedroom and found the robe Yes Man was talking about. It fit well, but... it wouldn't fully close over her stupid boobs. She sighed, opening the door to the room to find two men in black suits just... standing there.

"Um... Hi." She nervously greeted them.

"Yo, hip cat. We're here to escort ya down to the restaurant."

"Huh? Escort me?"

"Of course, baby doll. You're Benny's girl. That makes you our most important VIP. Only the best for Benny's girl, after all. Before he left, he gave us explicit directions to treat you to the tops. Our chef's got bacon, eggs, hash browns, omelets, and enough milk to choke a kitten."

"Um... Th-Thank you, but I couldn't possibly-"

"We insist, baby. All compliments of the Tops."

Sighing, she followed the two Chairmen down to the restaurant for breakfast.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

As she sat in a booth eating breakfast, a girl in a fancy dress and hoop earrings approached her.

"Hey, hip cat. What's shakin'?" she asked.

"Um... Do I know you?"

"No, you don't! But I know you! Everyone here knows you, sister. Tell me, how did you and Benny meet?"

"Um... He shot me twice in the head."

"Ah, love arrows, huh? Really groovy, ya know? What did you do after that?"

"I was buried."

"Aw, how sweet! Showering you with affection! What did Benny do next?"

"Uh... He took what I was carrying."

"Aw, isn't that nice of him, takin' on your burdens! You're so lucky, sister. Benny doesn't usually hold onto the broads he brings up to his suite. You must be a keeper!"

The Courier blushed. "Um... I don't know about that..."

"Anyway, I was sent to give you this." She handed her an ornate golden key.

"What's this?"

"The key to the Tops presidential suite, of course! It makes Benny's suite and the high roller suite look like halfway houses! Benny can be a bit too much man for some girls, so if he ever starts wearin' ya out, know that the presidential suite is all yours, sister."

"Um... Th-Thank you... I think..."

"No problem, hip cat! Laters!"

She left, leaving the Courier to her thoughts. Some time later, a chairman approached her.

"Yo, baby doll. Some cats stopped by to see you."

"Um... Okay. Describe them, please."

"Well, they got two ghouls, a mutie, a cyberdog, and two robots. The rest're human."

"Oh! Those are my friends! Send them in, please."

"Sure, babe, sure."

As her friends walked in, the Courier could only stare down at the table in shame. What was she going to say to them?"

"Uh, Courier?" Cass asked. "What the fuck is going on here?"

"Explain. Now." Boone demanded.

"What's up with the Chairmen? They're giving you the royal treatment." Veronica pointed out.

The Courier sighed. "Probably because they think I'm Benny's new girlfriend."

"Why would they think that?" Arcade asked.

"Because I..." She blushed. "Because I slept with Benny."

"Come again, Boss? You did what?"

"I slept with Benny, okay?"

Rocket whistled. "Damn, girl. Didn't know you had it in you."

"Skynet finds it unusual that the human would perform coitus with the human who tried to terminate her."

"What Skynet said! Totally!" Neiila exclaimed.

Even Edy beeped.

The Courier sighed. "I don't know. I don't even remember it happening. I remember I had tried to... I mean, I had gone to bed last night, then the next thing I knew I woke up in Benny's suite at the Tops, and... he had left me a note thanking me for... for..." She shuddered, unable to finish.

"My little munchkin is growing up so fast! Well don't worry, dearie, we brought your clothes since you left them at the Lucky 38. What did you wear here, by the way?"

"I don't know. I woke up completely naked, and they said my clothes were being laundered."

"Hey, cool cat. We finished cleanin' your dress."

They looked to see a Chairman walk up with a little black dress on a hanger. The Courier's face paled.

"I... I wore that thing?"

"You bet, baby. And the Ben-man said you looked ring-a-ding in it."

The Courier buried her face in her hands in shame.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"The eyes of the mighty Caesar are upon you."

A man in a brown suit greeted them the moment they left the Tops.

"He admires your accomplishments, and bestows upon you exceptional gift of his Mark."

He handed her a string necklace with a beat-up medal on it, inlaid with the bull from the Legion's flag.

"Any crimes you may have perpetrated against the Legion are hereby forgiven. Caesar will not extend this mercy a second time. My Lord requires your presence at his camp, at Fortification Hill. His Mark will guarantee your safe-conduct through our lands. Incidentally, it will interest you to know that the man you seek has fled the Strip, and is likely making haste for Caesar's camp as we speak."

"Wait, I know that voice... You're that Legion member from Nipton!" she pointed accusingly at him. Boone stiffened. "How'd you find me here?"

"I am the greatest of Caesar's Frumentarii. It was not a challenge to find you. Nor is this my first visit to the Strip."

"Well, why does Caesar want to see me?"

"Go to him, and you will understand. Seek Caesar by way of Cottonwood Cove, south of Nelson. The Cursor Lucullus will be waiting."

The man ran off. Boone made a motion to chase after him, but Cass stuck her arm out in front of him. "Start a fight on the Strip, and the securitrons will come down on you." she warned him.

"So..." Arcade began. "Mr. House doesn't care that one of Caesar's most notorious Legion spies is walking around on the strip. Either that or his Securitrons' AI is too primitive to recognize the threat. Neither answer is particularly comforting."

"Huh. The NCR, Caesar's Legion, Mr. House, and Benny. Seems like all the biggest factions are vying for your attention, Courier." Veronice mused.

The Courier swallowed hard. She had a very bad feeling about this.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Author's Notes:

**1.** Marilyn is the second female Securitron belonging to Mr. House. She was cut from the game, but some characters, such as Veronica, still reference her ("I'm surprised he only had the two robot sex slaves"), and she's even with Jane on their collector's edition playing card.

**2.** A Trench Knife is a combat knife and brass knuckle in one. You could obtain one in the Operation Anchorage DLC for Fallout 3.

**3.** A Spanner is a Wrench used as a weapon. It was cut from Fallout 3's Mothership Zeta DLC. Spanner is just another word for wrench, really.

**4.** The Packs and Cartons of Cigarettes in Fallout 3 and Fallout: New Vegas actually say "Big Boss" on them as the brand name.

**5.** West Coast Super Mutants _do_ have genders and associated anatomy, unlike their East Coast variants. They're just completely sterile.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Next Chapter:

"It's nice to meet you again, Mr. Forecaster."

"The shadow of death is upon your group."

"What?"

"The Reaper lurks behind one of your own, his scythe at their throat. On the day of Caesar's demise, so shall one of your friends fall as well."

"What? What do you mean by that?"

"Mean by what?"

"What you just said."

"What did I just say?"

"It sounded like you gave me a prediction."

"Can't be. I didn't take off my medicine."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"I'm a courier, remember? Don't you want me to handle your package?"


	12. Chapter 11: The Ides of March

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Fallout. Fallout belongs to Bethesda, who purchased the rights from Black Isle.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Fallout:** New Vegas

Unknown Origins

By _Cyberweasel89_

**Chapter 11:** The Ides of March

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Events have transpired in a... less-than-optimal fashion. Benny has fled the Strip, and the Platinum Chip has not been recovered."

The Courier gazed down at the ground in shame as Mr. House addressed her. "Um... I know where he's going, but... Benny had hijacked a securitron and used it to infiltrate your network, Mr. House, sir."

"I suspected he'd found a way to access my encrypted databanks, but well... this explains it. That would be how he learned of the Platinum Chip in the first place... not to mention where to intercept you on your way in. Highly resourceful, Benny. He would've made a fine agent, had he stayed loyal. It's fortunate you came along to replace him, and ironic."

"Um... Benny fled the Strip to head for Caesar's camp at Fortification Hill, Mr. House, sir."

"Of course. It's one of just two places on Earth that have the hardware necessary to read the Platinum Chip. The Lucky 38 is the other, of course."

"Uh... So next I head for Fortification Hill?"

"I won't lie to you. It'll be dangerous. You'll have to infiltrate Caesar's camp."

"Oh! Caesar has already invited me to the Fort!" She held up the medal that Vulpes had given her for Mr. House to see.

"I'm not surprised. The Legion has spies on the Strip."

"So... what do I do once I reach Caesar's camp, sir?"

"I want you to open a hatch in the basement of the derelict weather station atop Fortification Hill. You'll recognize it on sight. The hatch bears the logo of the Lucky 38, same as the Platinum Chip."

"How do I open the hatch, sir?"

"You can't. But the Chip can. The hatch will recognize the Platinum Chip and... open sesame."

"What's inside the hatch?"

"Something very important. I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise. So don't bother asking."

"Um... Okay. I'll make my way to Fortification Hill, Mr. House, sir."

"I expect that if Benny doesn't have the chip, Caesar will make sure you get it. More on that later. Be off."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Excuse me, but... are you the courier who caused all that commotion at the Tops?"

The Courier found a woman greeting them as soon as they left the Lucky 38. She was wearing a Followers lab coat and had eyeglasses.

"Um... Y-Yes."

"Oh. Great! I'm Emily Ortal. The Followers of the Apocalypse, well some of us anyway, have been interested in Mr. House's technology, how he stays alive. Of course, no one else is allowed inside the Lucky 38, so no one knows what's going on. Well, except for you."

The Courier raised an eyebrow. "Do you need help, Ms. Ortal?"

"Yes! We just want to find out what sort of technology Mr. House has used to stay alive for all these years. It could be of great benefit to the people we try to help, many of whom suffer from hard to diagnose illnesses."

"Say no more. I'm on it."

"Really? Oh, I wasn't expecting you to agree so easily. That's great! Here, take this packet sniffer. It'll allow us to intercept data on Mr. House's network." She handed the Courier some sort of little device. "You might have to manually remove the encryption from his data network, but hopefully you won't have too much trouble. Good luck!"

The Courier made her way back into the Lucky 38, finding a computer terminal behind a bar in the casino that seemed to be a network access point. With the help of Skynet, she planted the bug and made her way back to Emily.

"I've bugged the tower for you, Ms. Ortal." the Courier told her as she ran up.

"Great! It looks like we've started getting reports from the tower's network. I'm sure the others will be able to make some sense of this." She paused a moment, gazing at the device in her hand. "Oh, what the hell! The bug went offline! Dammit! I swear to God that old man has thought of everything. Well, it looks like this was all for nothing, but you did your best. I appreciate the help."

"I'm sorry, Ms. Ortal."

"It's okay. Sorry if I held you up."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

They found a compound with a chain link fence and walked up to the NCR trooper in front of it.

"May I help you?" he asked.

"Um... Is this the embassy, sir?"

"Yep. Our little slice of heaven on the Strip. The main building houses administration, while the other building is the MP headquarters."

"Great! Uh... We're looking for Ambassador Crocker. He asked to see us, sir."

"You can find him in the main embassy building, through the gate and to your left."

"Thanks so much!"

"No problem."

The group entered the compound and made their way to the building on the left, stepping through the door and approaching the circular desk where a secretary typed away on a computer.

"Welcome to the NCR embassy. How can I help you?" she asked.

"Um... We're looking for the Ambassador."

"Ambassador Crocker can be found in his office through the door to my right and at the end of the hall."

"Thank you!"

"You're welcome."

They stepped into a carpeted hall that led to a rather large and highly furnished office, where a man was typing at a computer. The group stepped up in front of the desk, and he addressed them.

"I'm glad you could make it. I have something I wanted to discuss with you. It's a very important matter and I have a strong feeling you're the perfect person for the job."

"Um... I'm listening, Ambassador Crocker, sir. Go ahead."

"I'm sure you've noticed that things are a little tense around here with all the issues between the NCR, the Legion, and Mr. House. It doesn't take a genius to see that something big is going to happen soon. To be honest with you, the NCR is in a tight spot. But... if we fail now, it's the people here that are going to suffer the most. I'm not willing to let that happen, and I don't think you're the kind of person that would either."

"Uh... Y-You have my attention, Ambassador Crocker, sir. Please, go on."

"To the Northeast is a settlement. The locals here call them Boomers." Rocket stiffened. She sidled a bit further behind Skynet. She didn't think the ambassador had seen her yet.

"They are sitting on a munitions stockpile that would be invaluable to us. I would like you to get in contact with them, and then do whatever it takes to convince them to help us. Unfortunately, the Boomers keep to themselves and are, let's say, hostile to all outsiders. That's why I need someone like you. Someone with your background and reputation would have a better chance of reaching them than anyone I have available. In exchange for your help, you would receive complete amnesty for any past crimes against the NCR, as well as additional benefits and perks. Do you think you would be able to do this for me?"

The Courier brought her finger to her mouth in thought. She looked up at the ambassador a moment later. "Um... I'll... I'll find them and talk to them, sir."

"Much appreciated. Once you've talked to them, come back and let me know what they have to say."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

On the way back to the Lucky 38, they ran into Emily Ortal again.

"Oh, hi. Thanks again for helping us with that data. I mean, the feed only lasted about thirty seconds and it's not that useful, but..." She sighed. "Well, we tried."

"Why wasn't the data useful?"

"We were connected for half a minute and received enough data to fill five holodisks. It looked like nonsense at first, but we decoded it. It was all biometric data, life signs from Mr. House. The technology he's using is so advanced, that it samples data hundreds of times per second. It's fascinating, but depressing. Whatever technology he has can't possibly be practical for the people out here."

"Is there another way to get Mr. House's data?"

"After two tries, I think I've learned enough. I'm sure there's something more promising I could be helping the other Followers with."

The Courier raised her eyebrow. "Two tries?"

"Uh... Oh yeah. I didn't tell you about the first time. I'd rather not talk about it, if you don't mind."

The Courier smiled. "Are you sure? It might be good to get it off your chest, Ms. Ortal."

"Well, you did risk a lot to get me that data feed, so... The first try was a little less 'professional'. Someone important on the Strip had access to some of House's technology. Specifically, a securitron. And more specifically, the 'someone' was Benny. I know, I know... He shot you in the head and everything. But this was a while ago. I knew he was sleazy, but I didn't realize he was so cold-blooded."

The Courier gasped, her hands over her mouth. "How do you know Benny shot me in the head?"

"Huh? Everyone knows. Talk about you has spread all over the Strip. It's common knowledge. Benny shot you in the head, now you're his girlfriend, and so far you and your group are the only living people to have ever entered the Lucky 38."

Boone chuckled. "Looks like you're all the rage in gossip today, kid."

"You guys are being talked about, too."

"Say what?" Rocket said.

"Yeah. No names yet, but you're a sniper from the NCR, you're a cowgirl merchant, you're a Brotherhood of Steel scribe, Arcade is being talked about too as a Followers doctor, you're a ghoul repairman with dual revolvers, you're so far the first nightkin to walk the Strip, that's the first eyebot we've seen since the Enclave's destruction, that's the King's dog, she's a ghoulified Boomer child, you're some short girl with a deformity you're desperate to hide, and he's a robobrain with a gift for scientific knowledge. In fact, I heard he brewed some chems for us. Oh, and that pack brahmin of yours you have staying at the brahmin pens has started getting some tourists."

"Bess? Really? I hope she doesn't get spooked..."

"Nah, don't worry. The rancher is taking good care of her."

"That's good. So, um... Did Benny say why he had the securitron?"

"He sure didn't. Benny was pretty cryptic and tight-lipped about the thing, but he _did_ let me poke around in it for a while. I wound up helping Benny a lot more than he helped me. Once he had access to the securitron's memory banks, he kicked me out of the Tops. Big surprise, right? I should've seen that coming."

"I'm sorry. Uh... What did he have you do?"

"The securitron was disabled somehow. Might've been an EMP, given some of the damage I saw. Anyway, he wanted it re-enabled and connected to Mr. House's data network. The trick was getting it to be invisible on the network. If Mr. House detects a 'rogue' securitron in his system, he remotely fries it. Getting around _that_ security feature was a bit tricky."

"Shit, lady, ya didn't think to tell anyone about this?" Rocket remarked.

"Rocket! I'd expect something like that from Boone..." the Courier scolded her.

"Yeah, strange as it sounds, I figured that bad mouthing one of the Strip's most powerful people _wasn't_ a good idea. The only reason I'm telling _you_ any of this is because he's gone now."

"Yeah. I'm off to go find him, actually."

Emily chuckled. "Sounds like you're in love to me."

"N-No!" the Courier shouted, blushing.

"Reminds me of Stockholm syndrome. Only instead of holding you hostage, he shot you in the head."

The Courier sighed. "Sleeping with Benny was... an accident."

"What, you just fell onto his dick?" Cass asked. A red-eyed glare from the Courier promptly shut her up.

"Well... I know what it's like to have an accident with someone..." Emily sighed.

"Did something... happen between you and Benny?" the Courier asked.

"Ugh. So gross. It was bad enough that I didn't get any data out of the securitron. This is why I didn't want to talk about it. It only happened once. I chalk it up to sleep deprivation and one atomic cocktail too many."

Cass snorted. "Shit, a smart girl like you? Tricked into the sack with booze? Wow."

Emily just sighed. The Courier smiled encouragingly up at her. "Don't be so hard on yourself. Life would be dull if not for all the little mistakes."

"I take it you're speaking from experience," she teased. The Courier just blushed.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"So... Mr. House, NCR, Caesar's Legion, and Benny." Veronica mused.

"All four factions are vying for control of the Mojave." Arcade pointed out.

"And our little Courier is caught in the middle of all of them." Cass explained.

"I think the Forecaster was right." Boone turned to the Courier. "You decide the outcome of this war, kid."

"So what'll it be, Courier?" Arcade asked.

"I'm with you no matter what you do, Boss." Raul assured.

The Courier brought her finger to her mouth in thought. "Um... Boone, would you prefer the NCR annex New Vegas?"

"Not really. I know I was in First Recon, but I cut all ties to the NCR after what happened during my service. I don't really care what happens to them."

"Even if the Mojave becomes part of the NCR..." Arcade explained. "I doubt they'll give us representation in their senate."

"Why? Do you have an idea, little munchkin?" Lily asked the Courier.

"I was thinking... A new nation."

"What? Like the Mojave Republic?" Neiila asked.

"Yeah... I think so."

"Damn. That's probably the most ambitious thing you've ever said, Courier." Rocket remarked.

"Skynet is curious how the human plans to do this."

Rex barked.

"Well... There's four factions vying for control of the Mojave, right? But there's all kinds of smaller factions out there that don't have affiliation to those four factions. I figure... if we can gain their allegiance, we can unite them into a new nation."

"Sounds reasonable. You've already got some headway." Cass explained. "Goodsprings, Primm, Novac, Boulder City, Sloan, Freeside."

"Yeah. Not to mention the Followers of the Apocalypse, the Bright Brotherhood, the Kings, the Chairmen, and a lot of other groups." Veronica pointed out.

"Yeah... But this new nation needs to be on friendly terms with the NCR, and with Mr. House preferably still alive." the Courier continued.

"What about the Legion?" Arcade asked.

"I say we annihilate them." Boone suggested.

"That's not such a bad idea."

Everyone turned to stare at the Courier. "What? Did I just hear you say that?"

The Courier blushed in embarrassment, shifting uncomfortably. "Well, think about all the things we've seen them do. Massacring the town of Nipton, enslaving people, dealing cruel deaths, treating women like cattle..."

"Damn, kid. I think I just gained newfound respect for you."

The Courier blushed.

"Then I say we use Caesar's invitation against him." Arcade suggested.

"Yeah. We assassinate him." Rocket rubbed her hands together eagerly.

"Hang on. Who'll be president of this Mojave Republic?" Raul pointed out.

Everyone turned to the Courier. "Um... Wait, me? No, no, no. Not me. I'm not a good leader. We'll just have to find someone who's a natural-born president."

They all exchanged knowing glances.

"So... To Fortification Hill we go, then?" Veronica asked.

"Yeah. We'll leave tomorrow."

"I'll totally pack us some caravan lunches and trail mix!" Neiila chirped excitedly.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

On the way south, they made a stop by a compound called the Aerotech Office Park. They hoped to stop by for a rest and to get something to eat, but it seemed it didn't have much to offer to travelers. Only refugees. They did find one man who approached them right away, though.

"Oh, hello. What can I do for you?" he asked.

"Um... Wh-Who're you?"

"My name's Frank Weathers. I'm a farmer. Got a few hundred acres near Junk Town. Well, I _was_ a farmer. Guess I'm not much of anything now."

"Um... Okay. Uh... What brings you to New Vegas, Mr. Weathers, sir?"

"Why does anybody? I thought I'd strike it rich at the tables, make my fortune, and never have to plow those damn fields again. I just wanted to provide for my family, and now they're gone... All gone... God forgive me."

"Why? What happened to your family, sir?"

"We were crossing the Mojave, not far from Searchlight, when a band of Caesar's Legion slavers came out of nowhere. They took my family."

She felt so sorry for him, it didn't occur to her that it was odd they didn't take him too. "I'm so sorry... How can I help?"

He seemed surprised. "You'd do that for a complete stranger? Thank you, friend. The army says they don't have the available manpower, as if this city is more important. From what I've gathered from NCR rangers, they were most likely taken to Cottonwood Cove. You might start there."

"Don't worry, Mr. Weathers, sir. I'll get your family back."

"Thank you. I can't tell you how much this means to me..."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

They stopped by a place called the Grub n' Gulp, then made their way to the 188 Trading Post. It seemed to have grown since the last time they were there, with more stalls, merchants, and travelers. The Courier stopped by under the overpass to see the Forecaster again.

"It's nice to meet you again, Mr. Forecaster."

"The shadow of death is upon your group."

She was a bit taken aback. "Um... What?"

"The Reaper lurks behind one of your own, his scythe at their throat. On the day of Caesar's demise, so shall one of your friends fall as well."

"Huh? What do you mean by that?"

"Mean by what?" His serious tone changed back to his usual voice.

"What you just said, of course."

"What did I just say?"

"It sounded like you gave me a prediction."

"Can't be. I didn't take off my medicine."

The Courier's eye widened. They stayed the night at the 188, but a foreboding feeling filled the Courier's stomach for the next few days.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

They knew they were approaching Cottonwood Cove when they saw the Legion banners. As they passed a checkpoint, a Legion soldier ran up to them.

"Halt! What business have you in Cottonwood Cove, outsider?" he demanded.

The Courier submerged her hand into her cleavage and emerged holding the medal she wore around her neck, showing it to the Legion soldier. "Um... I was invited, sir."

"You wear the Mark of Caesar? You must be who Cursor Lucullus is waiting for! You may continue, but be warned. Mark or no, we will not tolerate aggressive action by visitors in the camp."

They followed him down the hill, when Veronica spoke up.

"Ordinary guys with knives and bullets, and they're taking over Nevada."

"Something wrong, Veronica?"

"Yeah. I've been thinking. The real problem with the Brotherhood is that we isolate ourselves. Our training is top-notch, our technology gives us an advantage, but when it all comes down to it, we're losing because we shun the outside world. We always make enemies, never allies. We refuse to recruit outsiders, or see the value in their simpler technologies."

"Hm... Sounds like you should do something about it."

"I don't know. I'm still thinking about what kind of role we could take on that would give us the best chance of survival. But I think things are starting to come together. I know the odds aren't good, but I've gotta try. I can't lose them."

They made their way into the camp, but the Courier stopped when she saw a yard blocked off with a chain link fence, three people in rags sitting down inside them... wearing explosive collars. The Courier ran up to the oldest of the three.

"Please, ma'am, take pity on us. Free us, I'm begging you!"

"How were you captured?" The Courier asked her in a whisper.

"My family was ambushed by a pack of Legion raiders near Searchlight, and Frank ran off, the gutless coward! I have no idea where he is, but at least we're free from his abuse."

"Wait, are you the Weathers family?" The woman nodded. "And you say Mr. Weathers, um... hurts you?"

"Even since he lost his job a few years back he hasn't been the same. He took a switch to us for the tiniest things." The Courier gasped. "We were trying to get away when the Legion showed up. I'm glad he ran off like a coward, but slavery wasn't the kind of escape I was looking for."

"Well... Don't worry. I'm sorry, I can't save you now, but... I'll be back soon, and I'll save you then, okay?"

"Yeah, I guess. We're not going anywhere."

"But, um..."

"Yes?"

"Frank sent me to find you, Ms. Weathers, ma'am."

"That man knows where we are? Just when I didn't think this could get any worse. At least he's too much of a coward to come after us himself. What if he'd ended up in this pen with us?"

"I'm sorry... I won't tell him I found you."

"Thank you. Good luck."

The group made their way to the docks, finding a man in Legion armor standing there.

"Ave. Are you ready to head up river?" he asked.

"Um... A-Are you Cursor Lucullus, sir?"

"Yes. My orders are to escort you to the Legion's camp at Fortification Hill. Are you ready to go?"

"Uh... What'll happen at the Fort, sir?"

"You'll be meeting face-to-face with the mighty Caesar himself, founder of the Legion, conqueror of eighty-six tribes. To my knowledge this is the first time Caesar has ever summoned one of the dissolute to see him. That it would be a woman is even more surprising."

"Um... Dissolute?"

"All who are not Legion are 'Dissolute'. They live in squalor, unrestrained by morality, lacking moderation, temper, and self-control. Their very existence is a blight on the common good. Even worse are the Profligates, the subtype of Dissolute one finds this side of the river. They hold themselves to be civilized, when in fact they are corrupt and self-interested. The truth will be made clear to them soon enough."

"Hold up." Cass butt it. "Why are you surprised to see a woman receive this honor?"

"Women are physically and intellectually inferior to men. Their role is to bear children and ensure the survival of our species. Not to say that all women are equally incapable. I trust Caesar will find a worthy use for you."

Cass was about to shout something at the Legionary, when a hand on her shoulder from Boone stopped her.

"Then... Uh... What have I done to deserve this honor, sir?" the Courier asked.

"You'd know better than I would. But you must be remarkable, for Caesar to take such an interest. Are you ready to depart?"

"Uh... Y-Yes."

"Good. The trip will take a few hours. Take your place on the raft. There's room for your pack brahmin, too."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"By order of Caesar, all visitors must disarm and relinquish all banned items."

Another Legionary greeted them as soon as they disembarked from the raft. "Uh... What's considered a banned item, sir?"

"Alcohol and all chems, including stims and other addictive items."

What? How did they treat their wounded? "Why can't I just continue on, sir?"

"Caesar strictly forbids the use of chems and alcohol. By his order, all visitors must also relinquish their arms upon entry. If you come in peace, there is no reason to not disarm. You will not be harmed unless Caesar wills it."

Dammit! How were they going to assassinate Caesar now? Sighing, the Courier turned to her companions. "Hand over your weapons, everyone. And... I'm sorry."

So they handed over their weapons, but again Rocket was able to conceal the explosives stashed in her clothes.

"Your belongings will be returned to you when you leave." The Legionary told them. "You have permission to find your own way."

Sighing, the Courier led her group further into the fort. She passed mostly men in Legion armor and women in slave rags, but she spotted a man crucified, probably an NCR trooper... completely naked. She looked away, blushing, and already feeling her loins go warm from the sight of it. Dammit... she was _not_ a pervert! But she saw one man dressed in typical settler clothes, oddly enough. She walked up to him, a pink tint still on her cheeks from seeing the naked trooper. "Um... H-Hi." she stammered, still flustered.

The man looked her up and down, lingering a bit on her cleavage. "So you're the visitor I've heard some of the Legionaries talking about. If you're in the mood to trade, just say the word."

"Uh... A-Are you part of the Legion?" she asked him.

"No, ma'am. I'm an independent trader from Arizona."

"Really? I-It's not dangerous to trade with the Legion?"

"Not at all. They're my best customers. As long as you don't try to sell 'em chems or alcohol, they treat you fair. Hell, I don't even need to travel with guards most of the time in Legion territory. All the bandits are dead or run off."

"Do you ever trade with the NCR?"

"Between having to hire protection and getting slapped with taxes, it's more profitable to stick to Arizona and New Mexico. But I do cross the river from time to time when an opportunity comes along."

"Have you ever met Caesar?"

"I haven't had the pleasure. I have crossed paths with Legate Lanius, his second-in-command, however. It was... unpleasant."

"Oh? Tell me about the Legate, please."

"He's the best the Legion has to offer, or so the Legionaries say. Brute of a man, wears a fancy metal mask into battle. He killed one of my pack brahmin simply because it was in his way. I knew better than to complain about it, though."

"Wow. He sounds..."

"Watch it. I wouldn't say anything bad about him while the Legionaries are in ear shot."

"Oh. Thanks. Um... I better go."

"Be seeing you around."

They made their way up the hill, and the Courier was surprised to see two children running along the path, dressed in miniaturized Legion armor. Swallowing hard, she made her way through the gate into the main fort.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The Courier stepped across the drawbridge, and overheard something.

"Some of the slaves have been spreading stories about the Burned Man again..."

Burned Man? She made her way to a Legionary who stood in front of what appeared to be some sort of arena.

"What do you want from me, woman? I'm in charge of the arena, not the cooking pots."

The Courier recoiled back a bit. "Um... I was just wondering wh-who the Burned Man is, sir."

"Ask someone else, woman."

"Okay, then. Um... Can you tell me about the Legate, please?"

He seemed slightly more willing to talk about this. "A great warrior. When he was but a recruit, I watched him kill ten men in the arena with his bare hands. He doesn't feel pain, and he never, ever shows mercy. If all Legionaries were like him, the Legion would be invincible."

"Uh... You mentioned being in charge of the arena. What do you do?"

"I set up the fights, keep track of prisoners available, and make sure the arena's cleaned up."

"What are the rules?"

"Light armor and machetes only. The challenger, the one who asks to enter the arena, may be pitted against one or more opponents. All matches continue until one side is dead. No exceptions."

"Who does the fighting?"

"Most of the time it's some young Legionary trying to make a name for himself, hoping to get noticed by Caesar or the Praetorians. We pit slaves or prisoners against each other once in a while, but it's not much of a show. They're usually too reluctant to kill each other. Sometimes if we're desperate for a fight we pit some of the prisoners or slaves against the dogs."

"Um... C-Can I fight in the arena, sir?"

"Know your place, woman. Unlike the Profligates of the NCR, only men fight in the Legion."

"That's it." Cass butted in. "Do you have some problem with women, buddy?"

"Women are beneath notice, as Caesar has taught us. I'm only allowing the Dissolute courier to speak to me because she is Caesar's guest. I may yet, if Caesar commands it. Now will you get away from me? I'm busy."

Sighing, the Courier turned and walked away, her group following, albeit Cass flipped him off before she turned around. They walked along the path until they came upon a Legionary standing next to a dog. The Courier ran up.

"Doggie!" She reached out her hand to pet the dog, but it only barked and growled at her.

"Easy there, woman." The Legionary warned her. "Lupa's a champion. She won't let just anyone pet her." To prove his point, he reached down and scratched behind her ear, which she allowed, but didn't show any positive reaction to. "Now, the mechanical dog you have with you. Where did you get it?"

"Um... Rex? I picked him up in New Vegas." the Courier told him.

"Oh? Such things are common in Denver, but I didn't know that other cities had them as well. I ask because Caesar once had a similar pet, but it was lost during a battle."

"Oh. Um... Who are you, if I may ask?"

"I am Antony. I've been around dogs all my life. They're my life, always were, all the way back when I was a tribal, one of the Hangdogs outside Denver. Dogs roamed that city. Our tribe made peace with them. Thought they were our spirit animals. Helped us hunt, provided for us in some lean times. Then the Legion came. Good thing, too. Stronger now. Don't need those beliefs anymore."

"What do you do here?"

"I train the dogs. Been doing it since I was a boy. The mongrels know to listen up when _I_ start talking to them."

"Where does the Legion get its dogs?"

"We breed them, mostly. But sometimes we get some good ones from Denver. That whole city is overrun with them."

"And you mentioned this one was named Lupa?"

"Yes. She's the mother of a lot of our best dogs. She's getting old, but she's still a tough old bitch. Aren't you, girl? Yeah!"

"Um... What can you tell me about Legate Lanius, Mr. Antony, sir?"

"It took years for Caesar to conquer Lanius's tribe, and Caesar showed mercy to the survivors, allowing them to join the Legion. Had the positions been reversed, Caesar would be dead. Lanius is called the Monster of the East because he never, ever shows mercy."

"And what can you tell me about the Burned Man?"

"He's a story to frighten the younger Legionaries. He's dead. No man, no matter how tough, could survive a fall into the Grand Canyon."

"Um... Okay..."

"Later!"

The Courier made her way further into the camp, and found what seemed to be the mess hall. There was a woman in slave rags manning the counter. The Courier approached her.

"A free woman. It's... been a while since I've seen a woman who wasn't a slave. I forget myself. I'm Siri. Are you injured?"

"You're a doctor?" The Courier asked.

"I never finished my training. The Legion saw to that when they overran my town. I do know basic first aid, but I've had to rely on tribal remedies to treat illnesses and injuries. Healing powder and all that. I'm always running low on xander root. Plenty of broc flowers, though.

"You are using one broc flower per xander root, right?" Neiila asked.

"Oh... I've been using two roots per flower. Thanks to you, I'll be able to create twice as much healing powder per day."

The Courier smiled at Neiila, causing the alien girl to rub the back of her head. She turned back to Siri. "Where are you from?"

"A small town in New Mexico. The Legion burned it a few years back. That's how I ended up here."

"How long ago was that?"

"Three years and counting. If I could just get across the river, I'd be free. Not that I'd try it. I've seen what happens when you get caught."

"Um... I've heard things, but... How are the women treated around here?"

"We're property. If you're too young or too old, the men usually leave you alone. Usually. You ought to be careful, yourself. I overheard some of the Legionaries talking about 'trying you out'."

The Courier swallowed hard. She'd have to try not to get separated from her companions. "Uh... Th-Thanks. D-Do you know anything about Legate Lanius, Siri?"

"The Legate is not a man to be crossed, especially if you're a woman. That's all I'll say about it."

"A-And the Burned Man?"

"A vengeful spirit, some of the more... superstitious women claim. He was a great leader of the Legion before he failed Caesar. The stories say he was set on fire and thrown into the Grand Canyon, but his angry spirit rose from the ashes of his corpse, looking for revenge. Nonsense, probably, but there's no doubt that many in the Legion believe he's still alive somehow."

"Thank you, Siri. We should get going."

"Okay."

The Courier continued along the path of the camp, finding a slope that led down to a training area. She found a pen full of brahmin, a little girl in slave rags sitting among them.

"I can't talk to you. It's not allowed." She told them.

The Courier smiled warmly, squatting low to the girl's level. "Don't worry. I won't tell on you if you don't tell on me."

"Okay. I'm Melody. Um... Do you think you could help me?"

"Of course, Melody. What do you need?"

"Antony took Sergeant Teddy away, and gave him to the stinky dogs. I want him back!"

"Why did Antony take him away?"

"Antony said he was punishing me for trying to hide him from the Legion."

"They don't let you have toys here?"

"I kept him secret, but I think somebody told on me."

"Don't worry, Melody. I'll get Sergeant Teddy back. I promise."

"Thanks!" She hugged her. The Courier smiled and hugged the girl back.

The Courier and her group made their way back to Antony. "What?" he greeted them.

"I'm here for Melody's bear, Antony." the Courier stated firmly. She placed her hands on her hips and tried to look intimidating, but her companions noted it really made her look like she was asking her son for his sister's toy back.

"This stupid girl should know by now that even the rags on her back are a privilege! Anyway, my mongrels like their new toy. Tell you what. You square off with four of my best dogs. No armor, and no weapons except a machete. You survive, and I let you have the bear."

"Um... H-How about, no weapon whatsoever, and make it two dogs?"

"No weapon? Three dogs, then. Unless... Oh, I have an idea. No weapon and completely naked. Then, two dogs."

The Courier swallowed hard. She had to remind herself that this was for Melody... "D-Deal."

"Good luck. You'll need it."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The crowds cheered as the Courier stepped into the arena... completely naked. She dared not cover herself with her arms. That'd only show weakness to these savages. Still, she couldn't stop a blush so fierce it was purple from spreading from her nose and cheeks to her collarbones. The two dogs were released into the arena, so the Courier readied her fists, hopping from one foot to the other. She couldn't take a single hit. Without their stimpaks, a single bite could prove disastrous. She had to keep up her footwork at all times, and only strike when there was an opening.

Both dogs lunged at her at once, but she sidestepped out of the way, pounding one on the head with a hammer fist. It fell to the ground, but the second one ran for her with swiping claws. She back stepped out of the way, the dog following her with more slashes from its claws. Dropping to her hands, she swung both legs under the dog in a Ranger Takedown, just like Boone taught her, sending it flying onto its back. Without her boots, she couldn't really stomp their heads or chests to kill them. She'd have to break their necks. She dove for the fallen dog and pulled back on its head as far as she could until she heard a snap. It fell limp, so she dove away just as the first dog jumped in to bite her. She slid into a reversal behind it, scratching up her bare feet on the pebbles in the process, jumping onto its back and grabbing hold of its jaw, twisting as hard as she could. She heard a snap as the dog's body fell limp.

Standing proudly, she hobbled over to the exit to the arena, which opened as Arcade rushed in with his doctor's bag. She took a seat on a crate just outside the arena, letting the Followers doctor disinfect and bandage up her feet. She really didn't care that she was baring her loins to anyone nearby. She was too distracted with the pain in her scratched-up feet.

"Well, that reversal was probably a dumb idea." Arcade joked.

"Yeah..." the Courier sighed. "I forgot I was barefoot on pebbles..."

Antony walked up to them, looking quite frustrated. "Damn it! I thought they had you!"

"Y-You thought wrong." The Courier told him, forcing a weak smile to her face.

"Take the bear. I can't believe I let some of my best dogs get killed over this stupid thing. Your stuff is in the crate next to the arena entrance. Leave it there too long, and we'll dump it in the lake."

That reminded the Courier just how exposed she was. Don't cover yourself, don't cover yourself, don't cover yourself, be strong Kaya! Thankfully Boone soon walked up with her clothes. She hurriedly got dressed, then made her way to the brahmin pens to give Sergeant Teddy back to Melody.

"Hi!" the girl greeted them.

"Um... I got Sergeant Teddy. He's a little chewed up..."

"That's okay, I'll fix him! Can I have him now?"

"Of course. Here you go." She handed Melody the chewed-up teddy bear.

"Thank you!" She hugged the bear, running over to her bedroll to grab a sewing kit from under it.

Boone chuckled. "Didn't think ya had it in ya, kid."

"I'll say. You braved vicious dogs just to get a little girl her teddy bear back." Veronica agreed.

"I knew our little Courier had a big heart, but this beats all." Cass added.

The Courier just blushed. "Um... Y-Yeah. Th-Thanks. Let's just... G-Go meet with Caesar now..."

"Sure thing, Boss."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"So I finally get to meet the little courier who's accomplished so much in so little time." Caesar greeted her. She was a bit annoyed that she had to leave her friends outside again, but she hid it well, standing meekly before the mighty Caesar. "That's why I summoned you here, right? I mean, a man nearly kills you, and your response is to track him across the breadth of the Mojave? You arrive on the Strip and waltz into the Lucky 38 like someone left you a key under the doormat? You visit the tops, and next thing you know, the head of the Chairmen has a new girlfriend before leaving the Strip? When you set your mind to something, you get results. I like that. The question is... are you ready to get started?"

"H-How do you know so much about me?"

"I have eyes and ears everywhere. It behooves me not to invade the west blind and deaf. It hasn't been hard to track your progress. It's not as though you've been keeping a low profile. The time is fast approaching when my Legion will assault the great dam and invade the west. Before that happens, I want Mr. House knocked out of the game. A quick one-two punch, with you doing the punching."

"Um... Wh-What do you want me to do, uh... M-Mighty Caesar, sir?"

A small smile graced the man's features as he chuckled. "Hard to imagine someone so meek has done what you've done. You may have a place in this Legion if you continue to know your place. Now, down the hill, at the west edge of camp, is an old building. It was here when the Fort was taken in 2277. Inside the building is a hatch, and inside that hatch are two steel doors that bear the sigil of the Lucky 38 casino. That same sigil was on the Platinum Chip Benny was carrying when we captured him. Isn't that interesting? Even more interesting, there's a slot about the same size as the Chip on the console that opens the hatch. So you know what I think? I think the Platinum Chip opens those doors. Doors that can't be pried open, or drilled open, or blasted open. Because all that, I tried."

"Um... Wh-What's on the other side of those doors?"

"Benny's theory, if I understood it through all the screaming, was that Mr. House stashed some kind of ultimate weapon down there. A gigantic robot to stomp us all to death, who cares? Whatever it is, House built it, so I want it destroyed."

"A-And once I'm inside?"

"I want you to destroy whatever you find in there. And then I want you to come back here and tell me about it. So go to the building and take this fucking Platinum Chip with you." He handed her the Platinum Chip, the same one stolen from her so many months ago. She couldn't help but feel slightly awed by it. "My Legionaries will meet you there, with your weapons and equipment. Talk to Benny on your way out. He knows I'm going to let you decide how he dies. Maybe you want to remind him."

She turned to see Benny over in another section of the large tent, but was stopped by a man she recognized as Vulpes Inculta.

"I suspect you'll be a valuable asset to the Legion. Assuming you're really on our side, of course."

A shiver ran up her spine. This man still gave her chills. "Um... Wh-What can you tell me about the Legate?"

"To call Lanius ferocious would be an understatement. In battle, he seizes the enemy in his jaws, and will not let go. He thinks nothing of suffering losses, so long as the enemy suffers more. Though unsubtle, he is not dim. He detects traps, and sets his own. Be glad you will not have to face his judgement... _if_ you are true to Caesar."

"A-And the Burned Man?"

"Ah, yes. We are forbidden from speaking his true name. He was a missionary of some kind before he met Caesar, a holy man from out of Utah. The Burned Man proved dangerous, unpredictable, and impossible to kill. He helped Caesar form the Legion, but almost led it to destruction."

"Um... Th-Thank you for the i-information."

"You're welcome. I suggest you speak to Lucius. He may provide you with training befitting for an unarmed specialist such as yourself."

"Uh... O-Okay..."

"Vale."

She found Lucius in the back of Caesar's tent, sitting at a large round table with a map resting on it. "It is a great honor for anyone outside the Legion to get an audience with Caesar."

"Um... Are you the Legion's second-in-command?"

"No. Legate Lanius is Caesar's second. The Legate replaced the Burned Man after the Legion's defeat at the Dam several years ago."

"I-Is there anything you can tell me about the Legate?"

"He's the best warrior in the Legion. A full Legionary by the time he was twelve. He's never lost a battle. Had the Legate been in command during the Battle of Hoover Dam, the Legion would've won. I have no doubt about that."

"A-And the Burned Man?"

"The Burned Man was Caesar's advisor and general when the Legion was originally formed. The Burned Man led us to a disastrous defeat at the Dam. On Caesar's orders, the Burned Man was covered in pitch by the Praetorian Guard, lit on fire, and cast into the Grand Canyon. Caesar has forbidden us from ever speaking his true name again, and so we simply refer to him as the Burned Man."

"Um... I've noticed you d-don't carry a gun..."

"Neither do you. It's a tradition in the Praetorians to specialize in unarmed combat, because weapons can break or jam when needed most. However, our unarmed techniques favor offense over defense. We can charge the enemy and flatten him with our first strike before he can react."

"Um... V-Vulpes Inculta said you could teach me a Praetorian unarmed technique?"

"Of course. This will take some time, and I'm not a forgiving teacher. We'll start your lesson after you have spoken with Benny."

"Th-Thank you."

"Hm. Nice to see a Dissolute woman who knows how to address a man of the Legion."

The Courier returned to the main area of the tent, stepping to the side area to find Benny bound on his knees.

"Pussycat! Ain't this platinum? Had I known I woulda baked a cake. The last turn we took is an eighteen karat memory, baby. It's all that's been keepin' me warm at night, stuck where I am." The Courier blushed. "But down to brass tacks. How'd your meet and greet with baldie go?"

"Um... H-He gave me the Platinum Chip..."

"Sure. Baldie wants you to go down there in the bunker and destroy whatever Mr. House stashed there. Oh, but you don't wanna do that, baby. Whatever's down in that bunker is the key to the city called Vegas. So here's what you do. You go down there, and you use the Chip to do whatever Mr. House woulda wanted you to do. And when you get back to the Strip, you find Yes Man. I made it so that cat can't help but be helpful, dig?"

"Uh... C-Caesar says I get to decide how you die."

"Yeah, Baldie said you get to decide. So which way you leaning?"

"Um... What if I helped you escape?"

"Sweet to offer, baby, but if you cut these ropes every Legionary in this camp's gonna come runnin'. With machetes. Now on the other hand, if I had a stealth boy and a bobby pin, I could see myself out. Know what I mean?"

Hm... She had to think this through. "If I help you escape, what will you do next?"

"Baby, if you show me the door to scramsville, that's where I'll go. Out of your hair, never to return. I've been a fink to ya. Caused more than my share of grief by a hard mile. Let me go, you won't see me again."

"Fine." She set her pack on the ground, rooting through it. "Here's the stealth boy and bobby pin you need to escape." She slipped them into his hands.

"Baby... Your generosity and spirit of forgiveness? Off the charts. This little care package is everything I need. I'll take it from here. I'll sneak off when they aren't lookin'. You best go do what you gotta do."

After a night of grueling training, she had learned the Legion Assault from Lucius. Now it was time to see what was in that hatch.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

A Legionary in sunglasses greeted them when they stepped into the weather station. "Caesar has permitted your weapons to be returned to you while you serve him."

"All right. Thank you." The Courier told him, happy to see their weapons, chems, and medicine returned to them.

"Caesar has put a lot of trust in you. Be worth it."

The Courier nodded, stepping over to the nearby console and inserting the Platinum Chip. A hatch in the floor promptly slid open. The Courier and her party made their way down, stepping into an elevator and riding down into the secret vault below.

They emerged in a hall of steel walls, floors, and ceilings. Down the stairs they found a computer console with Mr. House's face on it.

"I see you reached your destination safely. Shall we get to work?"

"What is this place?" the Courier asked him.

"It's a facility I built many years before you were born. You might think of it as a barracks. You'll understand soon enough."

"Why did you send us here?"

"The Platinum Chip is a data-storage device. I need you to manually upload the data from the Chip to the facility's primary computer. There's a terminal at the other end of this facility. But there's a complication. While I can broadcast to this screen, I can't control any of the facility's systems. That means I can't deactivate its security bots... most of which appear to be active, according to the status board I'm looking at."

"What? Security robots?"

"Yes. The same equipment failure that prevents me from remotely operating this facility seems to have activated its security robots and turrets. There's a security room near the base of the stairs... Perhaps you can deactivate them yourself."

"What will you do with your securitrons?"

"My army will do what an army does best. Defend territory from invaders... and maintain order."

"Um... Okay, I'll upload the data, as you ask, Mr. House."

"Good. I won't hold you up any longer."

"Boss."

"Yes, Raul?"

"You feel that warm tingling?"

"Wait... Yes! Radiation!"

"There must be a radiation leak around here." Boone observed.

"Good thing they gave us back our chems. Arcade, pop us some Rad-X." Veronica requested.

"Sure. Luckily, we have plenty. But it can only do so much. We'll have to keep our time in here to a minimum. Raul, Rocket, Lily, Skynet, and Edy should be fine, though."

"Yeah! Ghoul power!" Rocket raised her hand to high five Raul, which he reciprocated with a chuckle.

Skynet checked the nearby status console and found that there were protectrons, turrets, and sentry bots protecting the vaul. The protectrons and turrets were active, but the sentry bots were on standby. They made their way down the stairs, finding a protectron guarding the security office. It was quickly junked, and Skynet managed to hack the computer terminals inside to shut down the turrets and protectrons.

Further down, they found the room with the sentry bots. Raul was easily able to overload the power junction box on the door, allowing them entry without activating the sentry bots. They were able to leisurely pick them off without them even fighting back.

As they came to a large room, they found the windows lined with deactivated securitrons. It was a little creepy, actually... It led further down more halls, past some generators, and finally to a room with a computer console. The Courier saw a slot on it for the Platinum Chip.

"Courier... You're sure you want to do this?" Neiila asked.

"Yes. If House upgrades his securitrons, they can be better used to defend the Mojave."

"That's assuming he's willing to go along with your little Mojave Republic plan." Rocket pointed out.

"Don't worry. I think I can convince him."

"Hell, you convinced me to give up on revenge, so anything's possible." Boone remarked.

The Courier inserted the Platinum Chip into the console, and a moment later a mighty tremor shook the vault. The noises of moving machines filled the air as all the securitrons beyond the windows activated, their screens showing the picture of a man in an army helmet. They hurriedly made their way out, each popping one more Rad-X, and came to the console at the entrance.

"Your work here is done." Mr. House said to them. "Return to the Lucky 38 so we can discuss next steps. You have a very bright future ahead of you. Thanks to your actions today, so does the rest of mankind."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

They exited the vault and came back up to the weather station, where the same Legionary with the sunglasses greeted them. "You have carried out Ceasar's will. Please proceed to his tent."

The Courier was surprised. They didn't take their weapons and chems again? This was almost too good to be true! As they walked away, and while the Courier knew none of the Legionaries were in earshot, she discussed the plan with her companions.

"Okay, you guys aren't allowed in Caesar's tent. So we'll use this chance to split up and attack at different points of the camp."

"Divide and conquer, huh?" Rocket mused.

"Smart, kid." Boone complimented.

"And you said you weren't a natural leader..." Veronica teased.

The Courier blushed. "Listen. We'll each be distributed evenly throughout the camp, so we'll likely be fighting multiple people alone. Which means we might need some boosters." She turned to Arcade.

"Right. I'll divide all our stimpaks evenly. I'll also hand each one of you a single dose of Med-X, Buffout, Psycho, and Mentats. Take them right before you begin the attack."

"Uh... Arcade, I can't use chems."

Everyone turned to Cass. "What? How come?"

"Heart condition. Got it from my dad. If I even use Med-X, I might have a heart attack."

"Then we'll need to give Cass some added protection, since she won't be able to fight on chems." The Courier explained.

"I'll stay with Cass." Boone offered. Cass sent a knowing smile in his direction.

"No. Edy and Skynet can't use chems, while Rex needs someone to use them on him. She'll get Edy and Skynet for protection and a supply of chems to give to Rex."

"Awesome! This'll be great! Strategy before the fight!" Neiila chirped.

"Right. Get in position, everyone. If anyone asks what you're doing, just give them any excuse you can think of. Try to look nonchalant until you hear a commotion from Caesar's tent. Then you'll know I've begun."

"The Praetorians in there use ballistic fists." Veronica explained.

"Ballistic fists?" the Courier questioned.

"Yeah. They're essentially the unarmed version of shotguns. Won't catch me using one. You need to load it with shotgun shells, so I don't consider it a true unarmed weapon. Second one of them attacks, a shotgun blast will go off."

"We'll use that as the signal then. Okay?" Everyone nodded to the Courier. "Okay, then let's get in position!"

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"I felt the ground shake a while ago. I'll take that as a sign you got the job done." Caesar explained to her. The Courier gave a sigh of relief. "There are rewards for doing as I command. Your reward was going to be vengeance, but Benny seems to have disappeared when we weren't looking. Unusual, but I'll have to give you something else. What do you wish?"

"Um... Uh... Um... You see, uh... M-Mighty Caesar... sir..."

"Yes, yes. Out with it. What do you want from me?"

The Courier took a deep breath, standing tall with her hands at her side, clenched into fists. "Your life!"

What? Did her eye just glow red?

Caesar didn't have time to ponder that. The Courier jumped up and pounded her fist hard down on his head in a perfect Legion Assault. The Praetorian guards sprung into action, rushing forward with their ballistic fists ready. The Courier took to her footwork and dove out of the way, watching as the converging Praetorians managed to end up punching and shooting each other. She ducked to her hands and swung both legs under the two remaining guards in a Ranger Takedown, then stomped their necks to end them. Lucius came running up with his own ballistic fist, the Courier jumping and pounding her fist onto his head, using the very move he had taught her. Vulpes Inculta was last, and he stood idly by, watching the events unfold.

"You." The Courier addressed him, her eyes glowing a bright red as she stomped slowly up to him. "You slaughtered innocent people, and for that you will pay the ultimate penalty."

Vulpes got his wits about him and brandished his ripper. He thrust it at the Courier, who only caught his wrist, turned his hand around, and stabbed the ripper into his stomach. She held it there, the blood spraying all over her as the Frumentarii was disemboweled by his own weapon. When Vulpes fell dead, the Courier took a deep breath to calm herself, and serenely walked out of the now lifeless tent.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

She heard gunshots, energy weapons fire, and the occasional explosion all around her as she left Caesar's tent. She could tell her team was getting to work, and was doing quite well. She ran to the nearest Legionary and took him down with a flying kick to the head. Just because she finished in Caesar's tent didn't mean she couldn't help out her team. She walked along, punching out and finishing any Legionary she came across, and knew Rocket had been by because she found a lot of burned-up corpses. That girl really loved her flamer. She ran to find Arcade shooting down Legionaries with his plasma defender.

"Doctor Gannon! Are you okay?"

"I admit, it's a bit hard to think clearly under the influence of Psycho, but it's coming along well. Just a few hits on me so far, and nothing more than some flesh wounds."

"Okay, that's great! I'm gonna go check on Cass. I'm worried about her."

"Oh, don't worry. Second the fighting started, Boone ran to go help her."

"What? Why?"

"Wait, you don't know?"

"Know about what, Doctor Gannon?"

"Nevermind. Not my place to tell you. Hopefully you'll figure it out on your own."

Running along, the Courier found Veronica happily punching the life out of several Legionaries, but Lily was screaming and rampaging, swinging her virtibird blade at Legionaries that were chopped up multiple times. The Courier ran over, grabbing onto her arm and shaking her to her senses.

"Lily! Lily, what happened?" the Courier cried.

"Oh, pumpkin, grandma's sorry about that. Sometimes she gets mad and listens to Leo when she really shouldn't. The medicine is supposed to help with that, but sometimes grandma doesn't take it."

"What? Why don't you take your medicine?"

"Sometimes it makes grandma forget things she doesn't want to forget, pumpkin."

"Just... Be careful, okay Lily?"

"Sure. Grandma just needs to have a lie down."

She continued on her way to find Rocket indeed burning a whole swarm of Legion troopers with her flamer, and even chucking the occasional grenade, all with sadistic glee on her face. Neiila was easily taking down Legionaries with her disintegrator rifle, albeit she seemed to have sustained several injuries. She's have to have Arcade take a look at her. But wait... Among a gaggle of Legion red, she could've sworn she saw someone in a brown trench coat and fedora, but he vanished with a faint shimmer of light. Strange...

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The main camp was delivered to wasteland justice, save for the slaves and children**, **who were instructed to gather anything they could, since they would come back after they cleared Cottonwood Cove of Legionaries and take them down the river to freedom.

There were more Legionaries outside the fort on the way to the raft, but the team was able to fight together on their way out. It was as they were nearing the raft that the Courier looked around a moment. "Where's Bess?" she asked. The bovine had come with them on the raft, and was supposed to be near the raft waiting for them. "Go see if you can save the people crucified over there, I'm going to look for Bess." The Courier instructed her team.

She went off among the nearby trail. It's possible Bess had gotten spooked by all the gunfire, like she tended to be.

"You're mine!"

The Courier whirled around to see a Legionary rush at her with some large yellow device with a motorized steel buzz saw blade.

She braced herself, but the blood that sprayed her wasn't her own. Looking up, she saw the auto axe grinding its way through Bess's flesh.

"Bess!" the Courier shouted. The brahmin had dove in front of the attack to save her? The Legionary's auto axe jammed from all the guts and blood clogging it, so he tossed it aside and let Bess fall to the ground where she lay.

"You... You'll pay for that!" the Courier yelled, her eye glowing red. She ran up and did a backflip, hitting the Legionary on the jaw with a flip kick. He fell backwards, his jaw broken but still alive. But she couldn't have that. The Courier jumped him, pounding his face with blow after blow of her fists, occasionally interrupted with a knee to his groin. It was only a hand on her shoulder that brought her out of her rage. She looked up to see someone she hadn't seen before. With the sun shining behind his head, he looked like an angel, come to save her from her darkest hour.

"It's okay." he soothed in a deep, gravelly voice. He seemed to be dressed in a duster, a breathing mask over his mouth and nose. His brown eyes pierced through her, while his black hair hung down in long dreadlocks. He embraced her, and that gesture of tenderness was all it took for her to break down into tears. She collapsed into his arms, crying. Crying all of her tears.

"It's okay, Kaya. Let it all out." He soothed. Even though one of his arms was robotic, it was still a comforting touch as he patted her back. "All feel pain. All experience loss. Expressing our sorrow isn't a sign of weakness, Kaya."

The Courier looked up at him through teary eyes. "H-How do you know my name?" she sobbed.

"I'm a ghost from long ago." He stood up, gazing out across the river. "Don't need to worry about the Legionaries at Cottonwood Cove. Took care of them. Can go ahead. Escort the survivors to Aerotech Office Park."

"Wh-Who are you?" the Courier hiccupped.

"You never mind that, Kaya. Just a ghost, wandering in search of the one I owe so much." He looked down at her. "Ever remember who you are, come find me. You'll know where to look when the time comes."

She wiped the tears from her eyes, and when she looked again he was gone. Vanished without a trace. Her friends came running up, finding the bloody scene before them.

"Courier! What happened?" Neiila exclaimed.

"They got Bess! Check on her, Doctor Gannon, please!"

The Followers doctor nodded, giving the pack brahmin a thorough once-over. He look back at the Courier, his face grim. "I'm sorry. She's dead."

She choked back a sob. "No... Bess... They killed Bess? How... how could... What?"

Cass looked over at the decimated corpse of their loyal pack brahmin. "She was a good cow." She took a good swig from her flask.

"She always avoided danger, but... in the end, she saved my life..." the Courier sobbed.

They buried her there, under Caesar's throne, and marked it with a grave any brahmin rancher would be proud of. They had lost a cherished companion that day. The death of Caesar did not go without sacrifice...

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Author's Notes:

**1.** Emily Ortal really did sleep with Benny. The dialogue for this was in the game files, but wasn't properly implemented due to an oversight.

**2.** The Auto Axe is a weapon from Fallout 3's The Pitt DLC.


	13. Chapter 12: Angel Lust

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Fallout. Fallout belongs to Bethesda, who purchased the rights from Black Isle.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Fallout:** New Vegas

Unknown Origins

By _Cyberweasel89_

**Chapter 12:** Angel Lust

**XXXXXXXXXX**

They arrived at Cottonwood Cove to find all the Legionaries dead, gunned down or beaten with some kind of blunt object. They approached the slave pen and picked the key off Canyon Runner, unlocking it.

"It was amazing! Some man in a breathing mask and duster came and killed all the Legionaries! He didn't free us, though..." Mrs. Weathers exclaimed.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Weathers. We'll set you free. Can you deactivate their collars, Rocket?" the Courier asked.

"Please. Easily. Don't you know who you're talkin' to?" Sure enough, she was easily able to disarm and remove the explosive collars. "There ya go. Pfft. Pathetic RF detonators." the ghoul child dismissed.

"Awesome, Rocket!" She turned to Mrs. Weathers. "You're free to go. I'd recommend you go to the Old Mormon Fort in Freeside. It's farther, but Mr. Weathers is at the Aerotech Office Park, so you'll be able to escape from him."

"Th-Thank you! I don't think we'll ever be able to repay you, but we'll do our best one day once I've found a place to settle."

Smiling, the Courier gathered up the survivors again and their large group made their way to the Aerotech Office Park.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

On the way north to Aerotech Office Park, they stopped by where Mr. House had marked the location of the Wrecked Highwayman on her map. It seemed to be mostly submerged in the mud. She instructed the survivors of Fortification Hill and Cottonwood Cove to stay back as she and Lily approached it.

"Can you pull it out, Lily?" the Courier asked their nightkin companion.

"Of course, munchkin! Just leave it to me." The nightkin grabbed onto the bumper and pulled, the damaged vehicle slowly but surely sliding out from deep within the mud. They carried it back to the shore of the mud pit and set it down, allowing Raul to look over it.

"Is it fixable, Raul?"

"Sure thing, Boss. I might need some help with it, though."

The Courier turned to their gaggle of refugees. "Does anyone know mechanics or machines?"

About three people raised their hands. That was more than the Courier could've hoped for. A fourth one stepped up as well. "Um... I can hand tools to your ghoul friend while he works, if he needs it." she explained.

The Courier smiled at her. "Thank you! That'd be helpful."

"Problem is..." Arcade began. "That car won't hold all of us."

Someone stepped up from the crowd of refugees. "Um... Nearby, there's a mobile home that's mostly intact. We could attach it to the back of the car."

"Great! Thank you! Oh, wait... does anyone know how to drive?"

"I do, pumpkin."

She turned to Lily. "What? You do? Didn't you grow up in a vault, though, Lily?"

"Oh, yes I did. But I used to read this old driving manual called Zen and Art of Piloting. It taught me how to drive cars, and I still remember every word of it to this day!"

"Do you still have this driving manual, Lily?"

"You bet, little munchkin! Grandma grabbed it before she left Jacobstown."

"May I read it please, Lily? I should be the one driving..."

"What? Why" Rocket asked.

"Well... you each have your own specialties... but not me. I need to find some better way to contribute."

"If you say so, Boss. You can read that manual while we fix the car."

"I'll lead some of us to go salvage that mobile home." Cass offered.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The fixing of the Highwayman was a success, as was the successful repair of the mobile home. They found some things in an abandoned building to furnish it with. Notably a workbench, a reloading bench, a miniature refrigerator, a sofa, a desk for Skynet's chemistry set, a first aid supplies box, a table and some chairs, a small bookshelf, a wardrobe, a safe, and two bunk beds. They'd still need to camp out if everyone needed to sleep, but at least this way a few of them could take naps while traveling. Occupying the car and the mobile home, they made their way to Aerotech to drop off the refugees.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Something I can help you with, stranger?" an NCR officer asked them. Then he noticed the huge group.

"Um, are you the officer in charge, sir?" The Courier asked him.

"Yes. Captain Parker. I'm in charge of this camp. This here's where folks go when their luck runs out. Drifters up from the republic, locals that can't turn a dime. Drunken reprobates from all around. If you don't have the caps to get onto the Strip, odds are you'll end up here."

"Great! I'm sorry for the burden, but we've got a big group for you."

He glanced over the crowd of refugees. "Where'd you find all of them?"

"Caesar's Fort and Cottonwood Cove, sir."

"What? How'd you rescue all these slaves and children from Caesar's Fort?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you..." the Courier sighed.

"Okay. If you say so. We'll get them processed and assign them beds. Did you happen to find Mr. Weathers' wife and kids?"

"Unfortunately, yes..."

"Why? What happened?"

The Courier clenched her fists, but forced herself to relax. "He... He abuses them. I sent them to the Old Mormon Fort in Freeside instead."

"Seriously? And you won't tell Frank about this?"

"No, I won't. They deserve to be free from him."

"I don't know about that. Frank's been here a while. I had a feeling something was iffy about him and his family, but I think he has the potential to change."

"I don't know..."

"Trust me. Just tell Frank you found his family. You don't have to tell him where they are."

"Okay... Thank you, Captain Parker."

She found Frank Weathers, taking a deep breath to calm herself as she approached him. "Have you found my family yet?" he asked, hope in his voice and expression.

"Um... A-About your family..." the Courier began.

"Yes? Have you found them?" the hope in his voice was growing by the minute.

"Y-Yes, they're alive."

"They are? Oh my God, thank you! Thank you so much! But wait, where are they?"

She frowned. "You didn't tell me you abused them, sir. They don't want you around. You need to clean up first."

"You're right. I've been a mean son of a bitch the past couple years. It won't be easy, but I'll try going sober. Maybe then my family will want me back."

The Courier smiled up at him. "That's all I ask for in return, Mr. Weathers."

"Thank you for doing what you can. I won't let this go to waste."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The Courier found Captain Parker again. Her companions seemed scattered across the camp, helping in any small way they could. Lily, for one, was telling some of the children some stories. And she didn't even have to ask any of them to do this. The thought of it made her smile.

"Um... Captain Parker?"

"Yeah?"

"This seems like a chaotic place. I-Is there any way I can help?" the Courier asked, fidgeting nervously with her hands.

"Well, I _am_ a little short staffed. Maybe you could give me a hand."

Her face brightened. "Great! Just tell me what you need, sir."

"Good. Good. Okay, some people have gone missing from the camp lately. Haven't seen any signs of violence or heard about any feuds, they just up and vanished. I've also got Keith and his gambling to deal with. I know that skunk's cheating folk out of their savings, I just can't prove it."

"Tell me about the missing people, please."

"They never seemed to have much in common. That's why I didn't notice it sooner. Young folks, old folks, men, women. All disappearing." His eyes softened, as if a memory was conjured up in his mind. "I remember a family with a little blonde girl. She... never talked much, but she always carried this little stuffed teddy bear."

"I'm sorry... I know this must be hard for you. But... Can you remember anything else?"

"Seem to recall a lot of them did business with those scavengers over in Westside. Dermot and Saint James."

"I'll check with them, then. Now we have two reasons to visit Westside."

"What's the other reason?"

"We're looking for Vance's gun. It was stolen from the Vikki and Vance Casino in Primm."

"Wow. Do you make your living off charity work?"

The Courier giggled. "I guess you could say that. Um... Could you tell me about that Keith you mentioned, please?"

"Keith's a two-bit hustler. He runs a gambling operation out of his office. Ask me, he wins way too often to be playing fair. I suspect he's running drugs, too. I just can't prove it. Maybe you can find something. Talk to him, poke around his office, something."

"Of course. You can count on me, Captain Parker."

"Thank you. I never got your name."

"Just call me the Courier, sir."

"Heh. That makes you sound like some kind of superhero."

The Courier just giggled.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

She found Keith in one of the intact buildings. Rocket agreed to search the back offices for any clues. The man seemed to be in the midst of finishing up a game of Caravan with a refugee, who looked quite distressed at his losing. She waiting until they were done before she gestured for the man's attention.

"Hey there! Fancy a game of Caravan?" he asked.

"Um... A-Are you Keith?" she asked him.

"You bet! You feeling lucky? I've got games of chance, games of skill, games of you-name-it. Want to win a little cash?"

"Um... G-Gambling's not really my scene. Uh... M-Maybe you could hook me up with something... medicinal?"

"Oh, I getcha. Lookin' for a slightly more chemical thrill?" she gave a sigh of relief. "Okay, I'll tell you what. I happen to keep some Jet around for... emergencies. Uh, thirty-five caps and it's yours."

"Um... I'll take it." She just needed some as proof, right? She handed him the caps.

Keith pushed aside his mattress and jarred free one of the floor tiles. Inside was a hidden compartment in the floor, which he removed a single inhaler of Jet from and handed to her."And here you go. Enjoy my friend."

"Thanks." That took care of the drug running. Now she needed proof he was cheating with gambling. "Um... I've run some cons in my day. One clever such-and-such to another, what's your trick?"

"Ha ha! I should've figured you were an artist from the way you flaunt that rack. Distracts people, you know? And I'll bet that innocent shy girl thing is just an act, huh?"

She forced a smile. "You bet!"

"Well, you know how they say you make your own luck? Let's just say I make mine with a little extra ink on the cards."

"Marked cards? A little bit obvious but not bad."

The Courier jumped to find Rocket standing next to her.

"Hey, it's not like I use them all the time. Mostly I keep them in my office until I see a really fat score roll into town. Who's the ghoul kid, though?"

"Um, that's-"

"I'm her apprentice." Rocket explained. "Anyone sees a ghoulified little girl, they just feel pity, ya know? Makes it easy for me to pick their pockets while the boss is distracting them with her smooth talking."

"The direct approach, huh? Not bad, not bad. Maybe I should look into an apprentice."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"I think you just saved me back there, Rocket. Did you find anything?"

The Boomer child held up a deck of cards. "You bet! I swiped his deck of marked cards. Right in the drawer of his desk. Wasn't even locked!" she cackled.

"You scare me sometimes, Rocket. Let's go report back to Captain Parker."

"Sure thing!"

They found him outside, running up to him to report their findings. "Captain Parker!" the Courier called.

"Something else I can do for you?" he asked.

"Um... We've got proof that Keith is selling drugs and using marked cards."

"Drugs _and_ crooked gambling? Huh, can't say I'm surprised. Here, you've earned this." He offered her a handful of caps but she shook her head.

"No. You need those caps more than me, I'm sure."

"God dammit, you really are a superhero, aren't you? Well, I'm going to go take Keith into custody. If you're interested, I wouldn't mind back-up."

"Of course, Captain Parker, sir."

"Glad to have you. Let's go. Just stick close and follow my lead. Keith's a cowardly son of a bitch, but he might try something if he's desperate."

"Okay."

The Captain drew his rifle, leading the Courier and Rocket to the office building where Keith was. He ran up and pointed his rifle at him.

"Keith! In the name of the NCR, I'm placing you under arrest for illicit gambling and the sale of unlicensed chems!"

"Fuck you man, I ain't going nowhere with you." Was Keith's indignant response.

"Come quietly now. I don't wanna have to hurt you."

"Why don't you go cry to your wife then? Oh, that's right! She left your worthless, stinkin' ass."

"You son of a bitch!"

He looked like he was in the middle of pulling the trigger! "No!" the Courier cried. She jumped forward and shoved his gun away, firing harmlessly into the wall, then ran forward and kneed Keith in the groin. The con artist crumpled to the ground, sobbing in pain, while the Courier turned to Captain Parker.

"Captain Parker! You almost shot that man solely because he insulted you!" she scolded.

He seemed to calm down a bit. "Yep. I always warned him not to push my buttons. Nobody would've missed him, though. But now that he's subdued, I guess we can take him into custody alive. Thanks for stopping me, I guess. I probably would've regretted that." He knelt down and slapped some handcuffs on the man's wrist.

The Courier sighed. Was Captain Parker really this... unstable?

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"I take it you've come to deliver the Platinum Chip?"

The Courier found herself in front of Mr. House once again. Or rather, the computer console with his face on it in the penthouse of the Lucky 38.

"Um... Y-Yes. Here you go." She slipped it into a slot on his console.

"Such a small thing, isn't it? And yet so... capacious. So very dear. Decades of hiring salvagers out west to search for this little... _relic_ in the ruins of a place called Sunnyvale. Back then, anyway. That's where the Chip was printed, on October 22, 2077. It was to have been hand-delivered to me here, at the Lucky 38, the next day. But the bombs fell first. Suffice it to say, the delivery was never made."

"What does the Chip do, exactly, Mr. House, sir?"

"Yes, so far as you've seen, all it does is change the picture on the securitrons' face screens from policemen to soldiers. But as you'll see... Some things are more easily shown than told. Take the elevator all the way down to the bottom level, and you'll see what I mean. Don't worry, you'll like what you see. We have much to accomplish, you and I..."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The elevator led to the dark basement of the Lucky 38. The courier stepped forward to find she had been deposited on a balcony overlooking some kind of field built for weapons testing and target practice.

"Step closer to the demonstration area, if you would." Mr. House's voice rang out. She uneasily did so, stepping up to the edge of the balcony.

"I suspect you're well familiar with my securitrons by now." Mr. House continued. "The titanium alloy housing that protects its electronic core deflects small arms and shrapnel easily enough."

Two securitrons below began firing bullets at each other, which bounced harmlessly off.

"It's X-25 gatling laser, produced to spec by Glastinghouse Inc, is deadly against soft targets at medium range."

One of the securitrons fired a laser at a target on a brick wall.

"And for close-range suppression or crowd control, the Securitron is equipped with a 9mm submachine gun."

Both securitrons began firing a barrage of bullets at two targets.

"All of this you probably already knew... What you did not know is that these are the securitrons' secondary weapons. All this time, my securitrons have had to get by running the Mark One operating system, which lacked software drivers for their primary weapons. Today, with the delivery of the Platinum Chip, all that changes. Behold, for the first time, securitrons running the Mark Two OS!"

The Courier was surprised to see the shoulders of both securitrons open up to reveal rows of missiles!

"The M-235 missile launcher gives the securitron the ability to engage ground and air targets at significantly longer ranges."

Each fired two missiles against the brick wall, which exploded and partly demolished the structure.

"And a rapid-fire G-28 grenade launcher ensures the securitron is deadly in close-range engagements."

The securitrons fired several grenades at what was left of the brick wall, further demolishing it.

"The software upgrade also includes the drivers for the securitrons' highly sophisticated onboard auto repair systems. All together, the Mark Two software upgrade confers a two hundred and thirty-five percent increase in combat effectiveness per unit. The city of New Vegas finally has soldiers worthy of protecting it! Return to the penhouse now. We have much to discuss..."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Trips to the basement are rarely so educational, don't you think?"

She was back in Mr. House's penthouse, in front of the giant computer screen with the man's face on it.

"I've since broadcast the upgrade to every securitron in range of my transmitters, and I must say, it's causing quite a stir down on the Strip."

"Oh my... Is anyone hurt?"

"No, of course not. They're just quite perplexed as to why the securitrons went from policemen to soldiers. Rumors are being spread abound."

"Okay. Um, so... Wh-What happens next?"

"The foundation is laid. My securitrons on the Strip are upgraded, and those at the Fort, ready for action. Now it's just a matter of adjusting the attitudes of some lesser groups, while we wait for Caesar's Legion to attack Hoover Dam."

"S-So what's the next step?"

"Outside New Vegas, at what was once called Nellis Air Force Base, resides an unusual tribe known as the Boomers. They are, shall we say, aggressively reclusive? They have several howitzers they fire at anyone who dares approach the base. Artillery of this sort has a range of several miles. If it's going to fire on Hoover Dam, I want it firing at _my_ targets. If not, then I want to make sure that the Boomers don't sign similar treaties to fire their guns in support of the NCR or Caesar's Legion."

First the NCR, now Mr. House? It looked like there was a trip to the Boomers in her near future. "Um... I'll make sure they support the right side, Mr. House, sir."

"Use extreme caution when approaching the base. Their firepower is... considerable. Recently, one of my roaming securitrons observed a man near the base studying the pattern of its artillery fire. Maybe he's learned something."

Something popped out of a slot on Mr. House's console. She gently picked it up to find it was the Platinum Chip.

"You can hang onto that. Consider it your... lucky charm."

"Um... Th-Thank you. Uh... M-Mind if I ask a few questions?"

"I suppose you've earned it. Go ahead."

"What was Vegas like before the War?"

"It was a place of splendor. As magnificent as today's Strip may seem, it's but a shadow of the neon paradise that was Las Vegas. I grew up not far from here, and though I traveled the old world extensively, I never found another place like it."

"You sound... a bit sad."

"I suppose you could say that. Vegas is a bit of a soft spot for me. The greatest city in the world, and I only managed to preserve its spirit. But you won't see me dwelling on anything like that. I'm above such sentimental rubbish."

The Courier giggled. "If you say so. Um... You say you saved Las Vegas. How?"

"By 2065 I deemed it a mathematical certainty that an atomic war would devastate the Earth within fifteen years. Every projection I ran confirmed it. I knew I couldn't 'save the world', nor did I care to. But I could save Vegas, and in the process, perhaps, save mankind. I set to work immediately. I thought I had plenty of time to prepare. As it turned out, I was twenty hours short."

"Prepare? How did you prepare?"

"On the day of the Great War, seventy-seven atomic warheads targeted Las Vegas and its surrounding areas. My networked mainframes were able to predict and force-transmit disarm code subsets to fifty-nine warheads, neutralizing them before impact. Laser cannons mounted on the roof of the Lucky 38 destroyed another nine warheads. The rest got through, though none hit the city itself. A sub-optimal performance, admittedly. If only the Platinum Chip had arrived a day sooner..."

"It's okay. You did your best, and managed to save the entirety of Las Vegas. I'd be proud of myself. But, um... Why didn't the Platinum Chip arrive on time?"

"Well, as I said, the Platinum Chip was printed in Sunnyvale, California on October 22nd, 2077. The day before the Great War. It was to have been delivered by courier the following afternoon... but by then, the world had ended. The chip contained vital software upgrades, but not just for my securitrons. Every aspect of the missile defense grid would've been upgraded, too. Given that I had to make do with buggy software, the outcome could have been worse. I nearly died as it was."

The Courier gasped. "Oh my! You nearly died defending Vegas? How?"

"Software glitches set off a cascade of system crashes. I had to take the Lucky 38's reactor offline, lest it melt down. For nearly five years I battled power outages and more system crashes until I finally managed to reboot my data core with an older version of the OS. I spent the next few decades in a veritable coma. But I survived, obviously... and eventually thrived."

"Oh. So... What are your plans for New Vegas?"

"I've resurrected Vegas, spirit intact. What I need now is the ability to enforce my rightful claim. Not just against Caesar's Legion, by the way. In fact, the NCR is a more present and insidious threat."

"How do you intend to enforce your claim on the city?"

"To enforce, one must have force. A position of strength. Years ago, when I detected NCR scouts roaming the Mojave, I could tell from their uniforms that these were no mere tribesmen. I knew it was only a matter of time before an army appeared, to take control of the Dam. And I knew my securitrons wouldn't be enough to oppose them. And so I recruited the Three Families. Vegas belongs to me because I mustered enough strength to bring the NCR to the bargaining table."

"Wow. But... Wasn't the NCR's army big enough to defeat your securitrons and the Three Families?"

"Indeed it was, and still is. But not without taking significant casualties. Would Kimball and Oliver have traded the lives of hundreds of soldiers for absolute control of Hoover Dam?" He chuckled. "Oh, yes. They weren't afraid of me. They were afraid of Caesar. That attacking me would leave them vulnerable to a Legion offensive. And so they negotiated. Not out of the kindness of their hearts, as they try to make it seem. Because the calculus of power left no other choice."

"Um... What were the terms of your treaty with the NCR?"

"NCR forces were permitted to occupy Hoover Dam and establish a military base at McCarran Airport. Well, it used to be one. They recognized my sovereignty over the Vegas Strip, and agreed to supply electricity and water once their engineers repaired the Dam. Written into the treaty were provisions that the NCR do nothing to prevent its soldiers and civilians from visiting the Strip. That's how I harnessed the NCR to my endeavor. Their occupation has been the engine of my growing economy."

"So... You would go to war with the NCR?"

"The salient issue is that they will go to war with me, if given the chance. There's just one reason why the NCR hasn't contrived some outrage to justify invading the Strip. Caesar's Legion. The final battle between those two armies is fast approaching. I can't afford to let either side win on their terms."

"Um... So if you keep control of New Vegas, what would you do then?"

"New Vegas is more than a city. It's the remedy to mankind's derailment. The city's economy is a blast furnace in which can be forged the steel of a new rail line, running straight to a new horizon. What is the NCR? A society of people desperate to experience comfort, ease, luxury... A society of customers. With all that money pouring in? Given me twenty years, and I'll reignite the high technology development sectors. Fifty years, and I'll have people in orbit. One hundred years, and my colony ships will be heading for the stars, to search for planets unpolluted by the wrath and folly of a bygone generation."

"Uh... In the meantime, you'd rule Vegas as some kind of dictator?"

"I prefer the term... 'autocrat'. I would rule as a chief executive. I would not answer to a board of directors or any other entity. Nothing to impede progress. If you want to see the fate of democracies, look out the windows."

"What's to keep you from abusing your power?"

"My judgement. I have no interest in abusing others, just have as I no interest in legislating or otherwise dictating what people do in their private time. Nor have I any interest in being worshipped as some kind of machine god messiah. I am impervious to such corrupting ambitions. But autocracy? Firm control in the hands of a technological and economic visionary? Yes, that Vegas shall have."

"Um... Okay, I'll... see what I can do."

"That's what I ask of you. Oh, and I still plan to pay you four times the bonus for delivering the Platinum Chip. Victor will pay you the one thousand caps on your way out."

"Um... Thank you. Oh! One last question, please."

"Yes, yes. What is it?"

"Um... What's going on with the snowglobes? You collect them?"

"What of it? I enjoy them. There's something about a little diorama set inside a glass dome that I... find pleasing. If you run across any out in the wastes, turn them in to Jane. She'll compensate you. Oh, and feel free to use the motorcycles I have in the garage."

"S... Seriously?"

"Yes. They should help you move about the wasteland easier."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

They decided to make their way to the Tops for some relaxation.

"Angry soldier robots with bazookas. I'm sure they'll be a good police force." Raul commented.

"Careful where you flash that Platinum Chip." Cass warned on their way down the Strip. "Not sure what it's worth but it's a tempting target."

"Yeah, I wouldn't wager it on blackjack." Veronica agreed. "Unless... the dealer has a five or six showing.

The Courier giggled. "Don't worry. It's nestled safely away."

Boone chuckled. "Wish I could've seen the look at Vulpes's face when you killed him, kid. He's been on the NCR's most wanted list for years. Even irradiated Camp Searchlight."

"Um... Boone? Mind if I ask you something?"

"Sure, kid." He was about to pop a sprig of coyote tobacco in his mouth, but a stern glare from Cass caused him to toss it on the ground instead.

"What happened at Bitter Springs?"

"We won." was all he said.

"That's it? You won?"

"Look, we've done some traveling together, but we're not exactly comrades-in-arms. I'm not ready to swap war stories."

"What? How can you say that? We've been fighting alongside each other! We're family!"

"True. It's a start."

The Courier sighed, deeply hurt... She missed the slap on the back of Boone's head from Cass.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

They arrived back at the Tops where Swank greeted them with open arms.

"Baby! Welcome back!"

"Hi, Swank! We're just here to relax a bit."

"Sure, baby, sure. Feel free to keep your weapons, too. Any friend of Benny's girl is a friend of the Chairmen."

The group scattered about, Rocket heading for the card tables, Boone and Cass heading for restaurant, and the Courier heading for the Aces theater with Skynet, Edy, and Rex. She wanted to see if she could take in a show.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Cass and Boone asked for a table and ordered a whiskey each.

"So..." Cass began as she glanced over the menu.

"Yeah..." Boone finished for her.

"We can't let anyone know that we..."

"Burned the midnight oil?"

"We did more than that, sniper."

Awkward silence followed...

"Can I admit something?" Cass asked uneasily.

"Sure." was Boone's simple reply.

"I... haven't gotten a good night's sleep like that in years." she admitted.

"You too? Ever since Carla died, not even all the Turbo in Vegas could help me sleep."

"Really, now? Well, if it's a mutual thing, I say we... play it again, Sam."

"Fine by me, I guess."

"We just can't let anyone know about this, okay? I don't know what they'd think."

"Okay."

"You really should work on your one word answer thing, you know."

"And you should work on your alcohol problem."

"Says a man with an addiction to Turbo and Steady. Here's the deal. You quit both if we're going to keep doing this. And the tobacco. That's disgusting."

Boone sighed. "Fine. But I'm not quitting the scotch."

"And I'm not quitting the whiskey."

Awkward silence...

"Hey, Boone?"

"Yeah?"

"You won't tell the Courier what happened at Bitter Springs... but will you tell me?"

Boone sighed. "Sure. I guess I owe you that much."

Veronica, Arcade, and Neiila watched from a table across the room.

"What do you think?" Veronica asked. "Should we tell the Courier?"

"No. It's obvious they want to keep it secret. I just noticed because I'm pretty good at picking up on subtle cues like that."

"Then why'd you tell me?"

"Figured I had to tell someone. Besides, I had a feeling you noticed something, too, but weren't sure what it was."

"You got that right. This stays with us, then."

"What are you two talking about?" Neiila asked.

"Nothing, Neiila."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

She stepped into the Aces Theater to find a show hadn't begun yet, but she noticed a man in an eyepatch sitting at one of the tables. She took a seat next to him.

"Hey, hey! Welcome, welcome, welcome to the finest entertainment experience in New Vegas. My name is Tommy Torini, and how can I make your day?" he greeted.

"Hi. I'm the Courier."

"Well, I'll be! You're Benny's new girl, huh? And the first person to enter the Lucky 38. It's a pleasure to have a Vegas legend in my theater."

The Courier blushed. "Th-Thank you, but I'm r-really not that special. Um... C-Can you tell me about this theater?"

"Well, it was my idea. Well, me and the rest of the Rad Pack boys. We took it to Benny, and he thought it was a good idea. A few years later, here we are. The best show in New Vegas."

"What do you do here?"

"Well, apart from serving as a talent manager, show scheduler, and all-around man in charge of this fine theater, I happen to be its headline act. Every night from six till ten, come on by to see the Rad Pack Revue live, only right here at the Aces Theater!"

"Really? What kind of entertainment do you have?"

"Well, acts are a bit thin on the ground right now, but every night from six to ten, we've got the Rad Pack Revue. Songs, dancin', jokes, we've got it all!"

"Wait... Are you the only ones who perform?"

"Well, uh... Yeah, you got me."

"Hm... Maybe I could help you find some new acts for your show."

"Sure, baby, sure. Tommy's always lookin' for new talent to bring to the Aces. Tell you what. You see any good acts while you're out wanderin', give them my card. If they work out, I'll give you a three percent cut of the door. Just swing back by as you recruit folks, I'll get you your bread."

The Courier giggled. "Deal."

"You're one ring-a-ding gal, baby. No wonder Benny chose you." He handed her a few business cards with his name on them. "If you find them outside the Strip, tell 'em to show that card to the securitrons at the front gate. We got a deal worked out with Mr. House for fresh talent recruited by talent scouts."

"Sure! I already know where I might be able to find a few."

"Came prepared, huh baby? You're one swingin' kitten. Hm... More like a little white rabbit, though."

The Courier just blushed.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

She left the Aces Theater and regrouped with everyone an hour later.

"Yo, guys."

"Rocket! You're back!" the Courier called.

"Here ya go. Ten thousand caps." She tossed Cass a large jangling sack.

"Seriously?" the Courier exclaimed.

"Yep. House limit."

"What about your prizes?"

"Wouldn't give me the alcohol, but I got a free brahmin steak out of it. Even gave me a key to their high roller suite."

"But... We already have the presidential suite here."

"I know. This one is for me." She tossed the silver ornate key into the air and caught it before slipping it into the pocket of her jacket.

The Courier just giggled before getting to brass tacks. "Guys! We've got a job!" she announced excitedly.

"More charity work?" Rocket groaned.

"Whatever you say, Boss." Raul agreed.

"The Aces Theater here needs some fresh new talent. Know of anyone?"

"There's a singer from New Reno at Novac, looking for work." Boone pointed out.

"Great! Boone, you take Cass there. Mr. House decided to lend us some motorcycles. You read the driving book, right?"

"Yeah, kid."

"Great! Anyone else?"

"There's a ghoul comedian working at the Atomic Wrangler in Freeside." Arcade pointed out. "From what I've heard, he really hates working there."

"Okay, Arcade, take Veronica and Neiila there to see what you can do."

"Skynet noticed a human telling jokes on the Strip."

"Really? Raul, take Rocket and Skynet to go see him."

"Sure thing, Boss."

"I'll be heading for the road between Novac and the 188 Trading Post. There's a guitarist there looking for work that Boone, Edy, and I met a few months ago. Lily, you stay here and watch Rex and Edy, please?"

"Sure, little muchkin. Grandma will keep an eye on them."

"Give them each one of these business cards and tell them to show it to the securitrons at the gate to the Strip."

"Got it." Cass confirmed.

"Okay, let's move out!"

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Oh! Arcade! Good to see you. And you brought some lady friends. Never thought I'd see the day, huh?"

"Don't worry, they're just friends." Arcade replied. "Listen, Hadrian, Tommy Torini is hiring new acts at the Tops."

"Yeah! You could make good money!" Neiila added.

"Too bad I got this ironclad contract with the Garrets. They'll never let me out of it."

"Oh! We can talk to James for you. He owes us one." Veronica explained.

"Heh. Good luck. Garret's a tough, mean sonofabitch. He's not likely to give up. Let me know if you make any headway."

"Sure thing, Hadrian."

"Yeah, go on, scram."

They made their way to the bar.

"Veronica! Neiila! Arcade! How ya been?" James greeted them.

Veronica took a seat, Arcade and Neiila to either side. "Yo, James. We'd like to get Hadrian out of his contract."

"Now why would I want to do that? His performances make me quite a lot of money."

"Hm... How about we find you some new talent instead?"

"Really? Like what?"

"A comedy act isn't the right style for this place. You need something... grittier."

"I'll tell you what. You find me something I can replace Hadrian with, he's all yours.

"Great! You'll see us soon."

Veronica got up and walked out, Arcade and Neiila following.

"Okay, where are we going to find a new act for the Garrets?"

"Don't worry. I know a place." Veronica told him, smiling to herself.

"Really? Then why don't we just hire that act at the Tops, too?"

"Like I said, James needs something gritty. And the grit I have in mind wouldn't work well at the Tops."

"I sure hope you know what you're doing..." Arcade sighed.

"When I have steered you wrong before?"

Neiila giggled. "I can think of a few times."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Raul, Rocket, and Skynet found the comedian, Billy Knight, telling jokes on the strip just a bit down the street from the Tops.

"Hey! Comedian guy!" Rocket called.

"Hey, hey, hey! I'm tryin' to do a bit here. Whatcha want?"

"Tommy Torini at the Tops is looking for entertainers. Interested in a job?" the Boomer child asked.

"Yeah? Hey, you're all right! Tell him I'll do it for a hundred a night. No, fifty! No, twenty! Ten! Just don't rob me, and I'll do it!"

She handed him the business card. "Hey, c'mon. Don't sell yourself short. You're worth a lot more than that."

"Whoa, geez, what was I thinkin'? You're right, I gotta go in there with a cool head, tell him how much I'm really worth!" He took the card and ran off to the Tops.

"That was oddly encouraging of you." Raul commented.

"The more he's hired for, the more we get paid, right?"

"Ah."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"We're heading into Fiend territory. You know that, right Veronica?"

"I know. Just watch."

A Fiend stopped them. "Stop. Right. There. Are you guys morons? You're walking right into Fiend territory. Hand over everything you have and maybe we won't kill you."

"Not so fast. I'm here to see Jeanna."

"Who?"

"Jeanna Slick."

"Oh! Slick! How do you know her?"

"Old flame. Name's Veronica."

"Hang on, Veronica? Slick told me to ask you for a password if you showed up..."

"Angel Lust."

"Shit! C'mon in. Slick's just inside."

Neiila tapped Veronica on the hip as the Fiend let them inside the ruined building. "V? What's an old flame?"

"Oh. Jeanna was one of my old girlfriends."

"Like... A friend?"

"Nope."

The realization hit her. "Ohhh..."

They were led into the building where a stage had been set up, three raiders performing some grungy goth song on it. There was a woman with an electric guitar wailing into a microphone, a man with a bass guitar, and another man on a drum set. The woman had straight black hair with purple highlights. The one on bass had a mohawk and was completely tattooed on his chest, abdomen, and arms. The one on drums had long black hair that hung in front of his face, very pale, and fingernails painted black. All three wore raider armor.

The woman singing stopped when she saw Veronica enter. "V! V!" she called over.

Veronica stepped up to the stage, ignoring the dirty looks she was getting from all the nearby Fiends. She greeted the raider with a quick kiss on the lips.

"Ash, Stone, this is the girl I've been telling you about." She told the guys on drums and bass. "Veronica, this is Floyd Stone" she gestured to the drummer. "And Allen Ash." She gestured to the bass guitarist. "The raiders just call them Stone and Ash."

"Hiya. Hey, listen J, how'd you like to earn an honest living?"

"Really? And what makes you think we don't like being raiders?"

"Because Fiends hopped up on chems can hardly appreciate the subtleties of your music."

"Dammit, V, you always had a way with words. It's how you tricked me into bed with ya. Where's this gig?"

"Atomic Wrangler at Freeside. You'll get your own room, honestly earned cash, and alcohol and chems'll be cheap at the joint."

"Do we still get to wear the raider armor?" the drummer asked.

"I'm sure James Garret can make it part of your style."

"What about our equipment?" the bass guitarist wondered aloud.

"We've got a mobile home and a car. Plenty of room for your instruments and belongs. Get packing."

"Hold up! What makes you think we'd let you take Slick, Ash, and Stone to Vegas?" one of the Fiends shouted.

"Yeah! Why wouldn't we just kill you right now, take your shit, and strip your car for parts?"

Veronica sighed. "J, take your boys and go pack your stuff. We'll clean house so you can leave in peace."

"Thanks, V. We'll load our stuff in your trailer. Don't be long."

Sighing, Arcade loaded some fresh energy cells into his plasma defender, while Neiila poured some epoxy on her rifle.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Oh! You're that sniper that watches the road at night. Didn't you leave town? Nevermind. What is it?"

Boone and Cass found Bruce Isaac at Novac. He seemed really on edge, jumping the moment they opened the door to his room.

"If you're looking for work as a singer, Tommy Torini at the Tops in Vegas is hiring." Cass told him.

"Really? The Tops, huh? Well, it's no Shark Club, but I hear security on the Strip is real tight. Even Mr. Bishop wouldn't hit a joint like that. I'll check it out, thanks!"

"Here." Boone handed him the business card. "If you'd like, we can escort you to the Strip. Our motorcycle has a sidecar."

"Really? You'd do that? Sure. Thanks, I'd appreciate that."

Cass tapped Boone on the shoulder. "Uh, Boone? If he's using the sidecar, where will I sit?"

"Ever heard of 'riding bitch'?"

Cass blushed as the realization hit her. "Ohhh..."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"I don't know where you found these raiders or what kind of music this is, but the customers love it! Hadrian's all yours." James told Veronica, watching the three raiders perform on the stage to a large crowd of people at the tables.

"Thanks, James. Trust me, you'll be bringing in way more customers with those three. Their names are Jeanna Slick, Allen Ash, and Floyd Stone. You'll need to provide them with a room."

"Sure, sure. Anything."

"Great! C'mon, Hadrian, let's get you to the Tops!"

"Really? You mean I'm finally out of this shithole? That's great! Thank you!"

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The Courier pulled the motorcycle up next to the billboard to find the Lonesome Drifter there, sitting on a stump and playing his guitar.

"Howdy again, little lady." He tipped his hat to her. "Alone this time? And with a motorcycle?"

"Hi, Mr. Drifter, sir. Um... Tommy Torini at the Tops in Vegas is looking for musical acts, i-if you're interested."

"You came all this way just to tell me that?"

The Courier smiled up at him. "I told you I'd keep an eye out for anyone looking for a guitarist."

"Hm... Maybe it's time to give these tired old bones a rest."

"Great! Take this card." She handed him Tommy Torini's business card. "I can give you a ride to Vegas if you'd like. You can hop in my sidecar."

He took the card. "Why, that sounds lovely. Much obliged to you, friend."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Tommy Torini paid them with a combined total of roughly 500 caps for the sum of all four acts. They enjoyed a nice night of shows before returning to the Lucky 38 for the night.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Author's Notes:

**1.** "Zen & Art of Piloting" was a skill book from Fallout: Tactics that increased the reader's driving skills.

**2.** In my defense, the electric guitar was invented in 1931. It's not a far stretch that they exist in the Fallout world.

**3.** Angel Lust (that's the band's name) was inspired by a mod on the Fallout: New Vegas Nexus by Talon Company.

**4.** A cookie if you get the reference with Angel Lust and its members. X3

**5.** I'd like to give some shout-outs to two more Fallout: New Vegas fics that I highly recommend. "Six of Hearts" by Nerdkink and "Newton's Third" by Fortunesque. Their stories are mostly the reason I didn't go with a perky, cheerful Courier for Unknown Origins. There was no way I could have topped either of them. Not to mention they both insert fanservice in a much more tasteful manner than me.


	14. Chapter 13: Raising the Stakes

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Fallout. Fallout belongs to Bethesda, who purchased the rights from Black Isle.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Fallout:** New Vegas

Unknown Origins

By _Cyberweasel89_

**Chapter 13:** Raising the Stakes

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The next morning, they decided to stop by the Vault 21 Hotel and Gift Shop. The Courier had never been in a vault before. At least, not that she knew of.

They found a young blonde woman at the front desk, dressed in a Vault 21 jumpsuit and with a Pip-Boy on her wrist.

"Hi! I'm Sarah, Sarah Weintraub. Welcome to the finest Vault hotel in the whole world!"

"A Vault hotel? Was it like this before the war?" the Courier asked her.

"No, silly! Of course it wasn't always a hotel. I grew up in it. I love it! My favorite place in the world! Not that I know much of the world. I never left this place, come to think of it. But it _is_ the most special vault, ever!"

"What's so special about this vault?"

"My vault is pure New Vegas! Everyone has a chance, and lady luck smiles if you play your odds right!... Okay, it was like that before we had to leave. Vault 21 had very smart ways to help people get along. All arguments and fights got solved through gambling. I'll give you all a quick tour of my home! Oh yeah, if you like."

"Um... Sure, we'd like that." She heard a few of her companions groan.

"Righty-o, daddy-o! Let's do it! All right! Please follow me. We'll head into the Vault right away."

She led them through a hatch and into what seemed to be a steel bunker room with a staircase leading down. "This bunker protects the entrance to the vault. Solid stone outside and thick steel on the inside."

She led them downstairs and through another steel hatch, into the actual vault area. "Above us there's the control system for this level of the Vault's life support systems, electric grid, radioactive shields, and... all that jazz."

She led them into a nearby hall. "Don't get lost! My Vault has _many_ corridors and rooms. Although, it is no longer symmetrical, after Mr. House threw us out."

Another hallway led to a large room with card tables and slot machines. "This is the main game hall. Here we settled the big disputes among the Vault's levels. Chosen representatives gambled against each other here. The winner earned the right to settle the dispute as wished by the collective."

She led them to the entrance of what appeared to be a diner.

"We used to have such parties in this diner! A bitch to clean later... but well worth it!"

She led them to the entrance to a hallway next.

"This hall leads to our guest rooms. You can use the first room on your left, but no snooping next door! That's my room. Always was."

A turn to the right and they were in front of a room with card tables, roulette tables, and slot machines. "Down there is the game room! Each side of the Vault had one. But... the other is filled with concrete now. Okay! That wraps it up! I'll see you soon."

As Sarah left, they made their way to the diner, finding a man sitting at the counter.

"Hey, do you mind? I'm tryin' to drink myself to the ground, right here. Scram." He told the Courier. He didn't seem to be staring at her cleavage, despite his apparent drunkenness.

"As good a place as any, I guess... Um... Though here you are drinking _under_ ground."

"Ha ha! Damn straight! This is about the last place in this fucking city where I can burrow without having to look over my shoulder."

She hopped up onto the stool next to him as her companions scattered. "Seems like you're in trouble. Is there any way I can help?"

"Who isn't in trouble in New Vegas, uh? Sooner or later, you hit the bottom of the barrel. I just happened to fall harder than most, is all."

"Well... If Vault 21 is your bottom of the barrel, I think you could've done worse..."

"Yeah, I could've ended buried in the sands with my just head stickin' out. Ants love that. A riot, know what I mean? This place has come a long way. Sarah takes care of it, and she lets me stay, for now."

"What does Sarah do around here?"

"What doesn't she do, huh? Sarah makes this hole look like a palace. Damn nice pair of gams on her, too. She never walks outside, though."

Ah. That's why he wasn't staring. Legs man. "Why do you say Vault 21 has come a long way?"

"Because Mr. House ripped this place to shreds before filling it with concrete. Hey, I was untouchable once, but Mr. House is a god. You got that? Now I'm just one more loser that got the evil eye from lady luck. Hard fall. Now I lay at the bottom and keep to myself."

"How high was that fall, sir?"

"From the top! Where else, uh? I'm Carlitos. My fingers work the magic and my hands deal the luck! There was no player who'd stood a chance, no wiseguy who didn't fear me, and no doll who could resist me. Gomorrah was my kingdom, Carlitos's turf!

"Nice to meet you Carlitos, sir. I'm the Courier. So you worked in Gomorrah as a croupier? What was it like?"

"Hey, you're smart." The Courier blushed. "Okay, it was like finding diamonds in your vodka and showgirls under your card table. If you want it, Gomorrah has it. It was heaven... Until you find that all the glitter is made of broken dreams and all the praise hides a knife pointing at your ribs."

"I have an errand there for Mick and Ralph in Freeside. Anyone I should be careful of?"

"Now, if you have to ask, you probably don't know shit about who you're dealing with, huh? Listen up... Watch out for Cachino, that's all I'm sayin'."

"Um... I'll be careful. Anything there you can recommend to do for fun?"

"I'd recommend you save your caps and your skin. Check the Tops. No big time wiseguys there. Freeside's also fun, you know? There's too much shit and despair at Gomorrah already. I don't want anybody making it worse for Jo-... For the girls, ya know?"

The Courier smiled softly. "I can keep a secret, Carlitos, sir. Who are you worried about?"

"I... Okay, it's Joana. She... works at Gomorrah. But it's all my fault! I met her at the Atomic Wrangler. Beautiful doesn't even come close... I moved her into Gomorrah. I was in love, okay? Then Cachino, backstabbing snake, got me out of the way so that he could have my girl."

"What? How did Cachino get you out of the way?"

"He's a cunning bastard, Cachino. Told Nero and Big Sal he caught me spring cleaning my tributes to the family. Can't do nothin' against that viper."

She stood up, hands on her hips. "Why don't you get in there and get her out of Gomorrah, then?"

"What, you think I can just waltz in there and take her away? She's their doll now, okay? Besides, I step in Gomorrah and I'm as good as dead, you hear? You don't just leave the Omertas unless it's in a body bag."

"I can talk to Joana for you."

He seemed a little surprised she offered, but then looked unsure. "Don't know... She's a dream to me now... If I... I mean, if I could have her again I'd be a made man. Why am I even scared of Cachino and all those fuckers? Joana and I are dead anyway if we don't get the hell out of here. Okay. You try that, and let me know. How she looks, what she's wearing, she's safe, anything. I'll pay you, ya hear?"

"Alright. I'll talk to her." She smiled. "But you don't have to pay me. If you're down on your luck, you need that money more than I do."

"Seriously? Shit, you some kind of angel? Just... Come back with news soon, ya hear?"

She blushed again. "Don't worry. I'll do my best."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

She found her group in the atrium, enjoying a card game.

"Any winnings, Rocket?"

"Shit, no. This ain't no casino. They only play blackjack for fun around here." She grumbled.

"Guys, I'm heading to Gomorrah alone. I'll be back soon."

"Alone? Kid, how many times do I have to tell you, that's a bad idea?" Boone chastised.

The Courier sighed. "Fine. I'll take Edy with me."

She made her way down the hall, stopping when she saw three men at the entrance to one of the rooms. A woman in a dress was cowering from them in the room. One of the three men seemed to sense her presence and turned around.

"This ain't your business. Walk off and forget you saw anything."

"Wh-What's going on here?" she stammered.

"Omerta business. Now fuck off, or else."

They were Omerta thugs? The Courier tried to stand proud and tall. "Do you know who I am?"

"No. Why should I care?"

"I'm the Courier."

He actually faltered. "Wait, not _a_ courier, _the_ Courier? As in, Benny's girlfriend, only person to ever enter the Lucky 38?"

"Yes. I'm watching out for this woman. Go ahead, cross me. I dare you."

"Shit. Look, we're just followin' orders. We, uh, need to take this up with the boss."

They promptly made a hasty retreat. The Courier ran in to see if the woman was all right.

"Thank you! They were going to kill me!"

"Are you all right?"

"I'll be fine... eventually."

"Why were the Omertas out to kill you?"

"I... may have overheard some things at Gomorrah that I passed on to the NCR. That's all! Honest."

"So... You're a spy?"

"No! Well, not really. I mean, I'm not listening through doors or sneaking around or anything. People talk out loud, and I just pay attention. The NCR likes to keep tabs on the activities of the families, and they pay me good caps to hang around the casinos and keep my ears open."

"Um... That sounds like dangerous work."

"It isn't normally. The NCR just wanted me to just gamble and listen, nothing else."

"Okay, just... Be careful, all right?"

"Sure. And thanks again. I'm Martina Groesbeck. You?"

"I'm the Courier."

"_The_ Courier? You weren't bluffing to them?"

She blushed and rubbed the back of her head. "N-No, I wasn't..."

"You've been the talk of the town since you first walked onto the Strip! Like I said, I keep my ears open. Everyone is talking about you!"

She tapped her index fingers together. "Um... Th-That makes me a little nervous, but... Th-Thank you."

"Hey, sorry. Thanks for saving me. I owe you a drink, all right?"

"It's fine. Don't worry about it."

"Okay, well... I'll be staying here a while longer, so... let me know if you need any information."

"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind."

As she made her way out of Vault 21, she stopped by to talk to Sarah again.

"Good to see you again!" she greeted.

"Um... J-Just want to make sure... A-Are you the owner of this hotel and shop?" the Courier asked.

"Well... It _is_ my vault, all right. I mean, yeah. That is, no. I... take care of it. But I suppose you could say it belongs to Mr. House."

"What does Mr. House have to do with Vault 21? He owned Robco, not Vault-Tec, right?"

"Mr. House has everything to do with Vault 21. He tried to get us out before he filled it with concrete. I almost went ape! So we convinced him, okay, Sheldon and I, right? We convinced him to leave the top level mostly intact."

"What? Why did he fill it with concrete?"

"I don't know! Maybe he didn't want anybody sneaking around down there. My vault runs deep and wide! It's filled with corridors and rooms that go far. What gives him the right to screw us with the royal shaft, anyway? So, he saved New Vegas. Woohoo! Now scram and let us go on with our lives! Sheesh!"

Wow, she sounded pissed. Get her off the subject, Kaya! "Um... S-So you run the place, then?"

"Yeah, and you gotta dig what I did with it! Looking as good as it should... almost."

"Do you get a lot of business here?"

"Sure! The place's packed... usually. We get loads of NCR cubes these days, a stray brahmin baron once in a while, and recently circled couples shining big rocks on their fingers."

"Do you miss the old days in the vault?"

"It was bustling with activity! We all knew each other so well... You see, the vault kept us all even. It's all symmetry and windows down there. We solved any quarrels through gambling! Lady luck casts no eyeballs, ya know? So nobody shafted anyone else! Yeah... I miss those days."

"Do you know Doc Mitchell?"

"Mitch? You mean mole-butt? I hadn't thought about that name in a long time... I was just a child, and... he had a big mole in his rear bumper. You understand, kids and all that. Everyone knows about each other in a vault, there's no other way. I hope mol... I mean Mitch, is doing well!"

No privacy? No way she could live in a vault! "He is. He's living in Goodsprings as a doctor."

"Goodsprings? Where's that?"

"South of Vegas."

"Oh."

"Wait... So, you've never actually left this place?"

"Sure I have! I made the scene in the Strip. It's just that I really like it here. Vault 21 is a kick!"

"Hm... Sarah, there's something else behind all this, isn't there?"

The girl sighed. "Okay, you're right. I hate going outside. It's almost impossible for me to step out of here. Still, I love my vault. It's my pad!"

Agoraphobia? Must be common in a lot of vault dwellers... "Okay... So... What kinds of things do you sell in the gift shop?"

"I have all sorts of things. Vault souvenirs, vault wares, vault machines, vault mementos and vault suits! And, well, lots of other vault things, too."

"Sounds great! Can you show me, please?"

"Oh, yeah, sure! Okay, I've got these great lunchboxes, they're super! What else? Oh! Oh! Look at these toasters! You like toasts, right? If they're crunchy, even better! What about a vintage Vault-Tec toy car, or-"

"Wait... Um... Sorry to interrupt, but... do you actually have any vault gear?"

"Okay, I do, but who wants a lame sensor module or nitrogen canister, anyway? All the popular stuff has been sold, especially the vault suits. I need to find more because people buy them like hot cakes. Leather suits are good times! Thinkin' about that just blows my top."

She raised a brow at the word choice. "Um... I could help you out..."

"You would? You really would? That would help me, a lot!"

"Um... Will you take any vault suit? From what I know, there's utility vault suits, security armor, vault science uniforms, and the Boomer jumpsuits were originally Vault 34 jumpsuits."

"Oh, I can fix those. You bring me those boom-suits too, okay?"

"Okay. I got it."

"Thank you so much! You're an angel. I can't wait to see you again."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Hey, no one but Omertas are allowed to carry guns in Gomorrah! Check your weapons with me."

"Um... I don't have any weapons."

"That's what they all say. I'll be the judge of that."

Whimpering, the Courier submitted herself to a thorough frisking and cleavage rummage before being cleared.

"Hm... Guess you don't have any weapons after all."

Not so much as an apology? Blushing furiously, the Courier managed to stammer out a question. "Um... I'm... I'm... L-Looking for Joana?"

"Courtyard."

"Th-Th-Thank y-you..."

Well... It was nice of him to tell her Joana was in the courtyard, but he didn't tell her how to _get_ to the courtyard, what with the twisting hallways. It was an hour later when she finally stumbled upon it, a girl dressed scantily greeted her the second she closed the door behind her.

"Well, what do we have here, huh? Let me guess. You've heard about the mistress who makes all your fantasies come true. So you've followed the call of your desires... all the way to the arms of Joana, moi. Now that you've found me, I wonder, do you have what it takes?"

The Courier swallowed hard. "I... I just want to ask some questions, miss."

The Courier couldn't tell if she was relieved or disappointed. "All right, honey. What do you want to know?"

"I-It's about Carlitos."

"What? Have you seen him? Have you talked to him?"

"Yes. Carlitos wants to get you out of here."

"I... look, we can't talk here. If you think you can help me, follow me to my room, please."

The Courier managed a small smile. "Of course. Lead the way."

"Follow me, hon."

The girl led the Courier to the right and up a flight of stairs, to the end of a balcony with a door that led to a lavish room with a large, heart-shaped bed and poor lighting.

"So... You met Carlitos?" she asked. The Courier could hear the hope in her voice.

"Yes. He wants to get you out of here, Joana."

"He... does? Wait, this changes everything. I can't leave my girls here... and, where would we even go if we escaped? No, it's too risky. We'll all end up dead."

The Courier gave her a small smile. "Trust me. I'll keep you safe, Joana."

"You sound so sure... Damn it all, you better not make me regret this later. But the Omertas will want us dead. What are we going to do about that?"

"You'll never see them again. You have my word."

"To be free, and with Carlitos again... Tell him that I still, I... never mind. Let Carlitos know that we'll be ready when you are."

"Don't worry. I'll tell him that you were happy to hear from him."

"Thank you so much for your help... I don't even know your name."

"I'm the Courier."

"Okay... Courier."

Hm... Wait a sec. She had been reading one of Doctor Gannon's medical books... Was she…? "Um... Contracted pupils, involuntary spasms... Med-X kills quickly, Joana."

"I... I didn't think it showed." She giggled nervously. "I guess that it's worse than I thought."

"What happened to you?"

"I'm... I don't know what's happening to me. I can't feel a goddamn thing anymore, empty and poisoned like the Wasteland. I'm afraid I won't make it out of here, not without Carlitos. If the Med-X doesn't kill me first, Cachino or another Omerta will. Ha... I look pathetic, huh? The great Joana, and now... I don't even know why I'm telling you this..."

"Tell me about Cachino. Please."

"He's a filthy monster... I've been with perverted men, but Cachino's done things... to me, that... Even other Omertas would also want to kill him if they knew what he does. He's broken so many of their rules that I don't know how he still breathes."

"What's the Omertas' role in Gomorrah?"

"They run the place as a center for all their dirty scams and extortions. Gambling, sex, drugs, they'll use whatever works to exploit your weaknesses. Hooker, customer, it doesn't matter. Everyone here's a pawn to the Omertas, playing and dying by their rules."

"Tell me about their leaders, please."

"Nero's the pack leader, and Big Sal's his right hand. What Nero wants, Big Sal does. Then there's... Cachino."

"What about Carlitos? Can you tell me more about him, please?"

"He was an Omerta that... fell in love with me. They don't ever mix with people outside the 'family', you know? He was planning to escape with me but Cachino found out about us. So he did something, talked, I don't know, and Carlitos disappeared."

"Because Carlitos broke the Omerta rules?"

"Cachino doesn't give a shit about rules, only cares to feed his perversions. He lusted for me, he's done thing to me. Look... I'm stuck here, I know that. Carlitos is the only thing that keeps me going. Without him, I don't have anything left."

"Don't worry. I'll help you get out of here, Joana."

"Thank you." She leaned in to plant a soft kiss on the Courier's forehead, making the girl blush.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

She made her way back to Vault 21, finding Carlitos there.

"Hey, it's you! What's the news?" he asked.

"Um... I found Joana."

"Hey, that's great. What's going on?"

"Joana's happy to hear from you and wants to escape Gomorrah." she told him, smiling.

"She is...? Listen, no time to waste. Help her get to Freeside, that's our ticket out of this fucking city. I'll meet you there between midnight and dawn, though we could use some backup. We only got one chance to get this right, you hear? These guys in Freeside, Big Beard and Little Beard. Good shots, right? They owe me big time. Tell them Carlitos is back to collect his chips, they'll know what to do."

"Where in Freeside will you meet us?"

"I'll be near the entrance to Vegas, but I need to keep out of sight. The Omertas have contacts, and they're still lookin' for me."

"How do I get her out of Gomorrah?"

"She'll have to go disguised. Gomorrah's packed around midnight, and the bouncers won't notice just another patron leavin' the joint."

The Courier nodded, her eyes determined. "Okay. I'm on it."

"All right. See you soon. And... thank you."

"Don't thank me yet, Carlitos, sir. Not until the job is done and you and Joana are safe."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

After asking around, she found Big Beard and Little Beard at the Atomic Wrangler. She assumed the one with the bushier beard was Big Beard. She approached the one with the more meager beard.

"Um... Hi."

"Just talk to Big Beard next to me, girlie. Whoever's got the biggest whiskers, does the talkin'."

"Um... Okay?" So she turned to Big Beard.

"Let me guess. You wanna know my secret. How I got my beard to grow in so thick."

"Um... Okay?" She'd just humor him. "What's your trick?"

"Sorry, but I can't tell you that. Trade secret."

"Um... Okay?" Best get down to business, then. "Does the name Carlitos ring a bell?"

"Depends on why you're asking."

"Uh... Carlitos says he's ready to cash in his chips."

"I see. Well, he can count on Little Beard and me for an assist. Tell us where and when, and we'll be there."

"The where is the Freeside entrance to the Strip, and the when is midnight tonight."

"The Beards will be there."

"Thanks. Um... What sort of debt do you owe Carlitos?"

"Let's just say it had somethin' to do with the beards, and leave it at that."

"Um... Okay?" She was really getting tired of saying that to these two...

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Joana!" She ran up to the woman, stopping to catch her breath. "I... I have news from Carlitos!"

"Really? What did he say?"

"He'll meet us in Freeside around midnight. I'll sneak you out in disguise."

"Okay, I got clothes I can use for that. When you give the word, I'll let the other girls know and we'll meet you at the lobby."

"Okay. I'll see you soon."

The Courier made her way out into the casino. She had to make it look like she was just a regular customer, so she bought a few chips and started playing the slots a little. She discovered she wasn't a very good gambler, not at all like Rocket, but it at least kept her busy until midnight. Edy certainly didn't mind watching the reels. When the time came, she made her way out to the lobby to find three girls there in ordinary dresses, hats, and sunglasses, one of them Joana.

"C'mon. People are looking at us." Joana whispered to the Courier.

"Are you ready to get out?" The Courier whispered back, facing away from Joana as she spoke.

"We're ready. Let's get the hell out of here before they recognize us."

They made their way out, the Courier waiting until all three had left the casino before exiting herself.

Their walk down the street was tense, but nothing happened. As they approached the gate to Freeside, all four broke out into a run, pushing the gates open and pulling them closed behind them.

A quick run down the street and they were met with Carlitos, Big Beard, and Little Beard. The man's face lit up as he saw them.

"You've made it! Thanks so much for your help! I owe you more than- Wait! What's that?"

The Courier spun around to see four men in light gray suits and hats run up to them. Uh oh!

"Well, well, well. If it isn't our whore, Joana." The apparent leader of the four greeted them. "And I don't believe this... Carlitos! We had you and the whore clocked from the start, but we thought Carlitos'd be long gone by now. He should've fled with the caps he stole from the family. We Omertas don't forget, and now's time to pay for your offenses!"

Edy beeped angrily, but the Courier held a hand out in front of her, making the robot settle down. She stepped forward, taking a deep breath. It was time for some acting. It was the only way to defuse this situation. "Your boss will hear about how you spoiled the mission."

"What mission, what are you talkin' about?"

"Carlitos is trading what he stole for Joana. I was hired to see that he does."

"All the dough? Cachino once said this _traitor_ flipped with thousands off the record. Why wasn't I informed?"

She held in her sigh of relief. He was buying it so far, now she had to seal the deal. "Your boss kept it a secret. Carlitos wouldn't deal directly with Omertas."

"I see, yeah... He knows what we usually do to traitors. But all that profit is well worth sparing his miserable life. Okay, carry on. And we've never been here, you understand? Boss doesn't need to know about this."

The four Omerta thugs ran off. This time the Courier released a well-deserved sigh of relief, while Edy beeped happily. Carlitos and Joana were staring at her with their mouths hanging open. It was Carlitos who spoke first.

"I don't know how we pulled this off. For a minute there I thought we weren't going to make it. Without you, we'd have been in the losing end. Thank you so much for your help, friend."

She shook his hand, smiling at him. "It was my pleasure, Carlitos."

"I take care of my debts. How can I repay you, friend?"

"Just go be happy with Joana. Enjoy your freedom. That's all I ask for."

"Really? Shit, you're one of a kind. Okay, friend. I hope to see you again, far away from this place."

Joana ran up and held the Courier in a tight hug. "You truly are something else." She said, releasing her. A deep blush covered the Courier's face. "Those Omertas looked like they were going to kill Carlitos on the spot. I have nothing to give you except my thanks. And, well, if I were you I wouldn't mess around with the Omertas anymore. But listen to this. Cachino has said things that make me think there's a big and nasty operation in the works. Something about getting even with Mr. House."

"Thanks. I'll see what I can do, Joana."

"Just thought you'd like to know. Okay, I'm getting Carlitos as far away from here as possible. I hope to see you again. Bye!"

They all turned to leave, leaving the Courier waving goodbye at them. "Bye, Joana! Bye, Carlitos! I hope to see you again someday, too!"

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The Courier made her way back to Gomorrah. She best take care of this problem then and there. She once again submitted to an embarrassing weapon check and made her way to the receptionist at the front desk.

"Hello, and welcome to Gomorrah. What can I help you with today?"

"Um... What is there to do around here?"

"Feel free to head to our club, Brimstone, or you can see our gorgeous courtyard out behind the casino."

"Okay. Thanks. Uh... I'm sure you have all the good dirt on what goes on around here."

"I sure do, but loose lips..." she chuckled. "Sink ships."

She smiled up at her. "Don't worry. I can keep your secrets."

"Alright, you look pretty trustworthy."

"So... What can you tell me about what's going on around the Strip?"

"I've heard some pretty shady rumors about the Ultra-Luxe. I'm not sure what the deal is, but although they try to put on airs, that place is just plain creepy. Maybe it's the masks."

"Thanks. Um... Anything else?"

"It's hard to believe that not too long ago most of the families on the Strip were little more than warring tribes. The Omertas even had a big war with the Khans, once upon a time."

"That's interesting. What else?"

"I hear you've actually been inside the Lucky 38? You're the first person who's been in there in as long as anybody can remember."

The Courier blushed. She was really the talk of the town, wasn't she? "Um... C-Can you tell me about what's going on in G-Gomorrah, then, please?"

"Gossip is one thing, dirt on the Family is something else totally."

Hm... That was a dead end. She'd have to try a more direct approach. The Courier stepped over to the Omerta thug who checked people for weapons.

"What the fuck are you lookin' at?" he asked.

"Um... Wh-Where can I find Cachino?"

"Cachino? Get out of my face."

Edy made an agitated beep. Hm... She stepped into the casino and asked the floor manager. Similar response. And all the dealers essentially told her to fuck off as well. Sighing, the Courier leaned against a wall and turned to Edy. "What do you think we should do, Edy?" she asked her. The eyebot only beeped sadly. Sighing again, the Courier reached into her pocket and popped a piece of bubblegum into her mouth. She had to find Cachino, and bubblegum usually helped her think. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't expect a tall, burly, balding man to walk right up beside her just as she was blowing a bubble.

"I hear you've been asking questions about me, cuntweed. What the fuck do you want?" he demanded.

She froze, the bubble popping and surrounding her mouth in pink goo. She promptly cleared her lips with the wrapper and spit the remaining gum out before turning to what she presumed was Cachino.

"Um... Are you Cachino? Uh..." Okay, first a casual question, just to try and defuse a potentially hostile situation. "Wh-What can you tell me about Gomorrah?"

"I banged Lot's wife and licked her salty ass. The fuck do I look like? I'm the one askin' the questions here. Now tell me why you been droppin' my name before I get some muscle over here and we find a private place to _talk_."

The Courier swallowed hard. Okay, straight to the point, then. "Um... I... I hear you've been doing some b-business on the side."

"Business? What the fuck do you mean, business? You lookin' to get yourself burned? Now you start talkin' real clear, and I mean fuckin' _crystal_ clear, because I'm about to lose my patience."

"Uh... Th-The Omertas w-won't take kindly to hearing ab-bout your relationship w-with Joana."

"Joana? The bitch spreadin' lies about me? I've got a lesson to teach her about loose lips."

"Uh, nevermind. Sorry I said something."

"Fuck off, then."

The Courier sighed, leaning back against the wall and returning the half-chewed gum to her mouth. Edy turned to her and beeped sadly.

"It's okay, Edy. I'll think of something." She received a happy beep in response, making her giggle.

Okay... Cachino wasn't willing to cooperate, so she either needed dirt on him or some other inside link to the Omertas.

A finger tapping her shoulder brought her out of her musings. She turned to see a boy about her age with short, auburn hair, dressed in a light gray suit tailored to his size.

"Um... H-Hello?" she greeted.

"Hi. Are you the one who freed Joana?" he asked.

She swallowed hard, almost swallowing her gum, but... something about his eyes. There was... kindness... in them. "Y-Yes. I am." She found herself telling him. "But... Who are you?"

"I'm Nero's son. And I believe we can help each other out."

The Courier's jaw dropped, her gum falling out and landing on the floor.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**1.** Hate to do it again so soon after the last chapter, but... Two more shout-outs! First is "New California Dreaming" by Hotpoint. A delightful contrast between Fallout 2 and Fallout 3 that features a ranger of the New California Republic being sent to investigate the Capital Wasteland Brotherhood of Steel, set just a few months before the beginning of Fallout 3. The characters are incredibly realistic and three-dimensional. I especially love Allison. She's a contradictory mix of demure and feisty. XD

**2.** Second is "The Rangers: Echo" by Thug-4-Less. This is one set during Fallout 3 in a "while you were out" kind of way, featuring an expanded Reilly's Rangers. Much like the above, you'll absolutely fall in love with the characters. Evelyn is my favorite. Wolf comes in at a close second. X3

**3.** To conclude these notes, I have to say... While they're not strictly necessary, I LOVE getting reviews. Unfortunately, I can't reply to them if you're not signed in. It's especially upsetting when the anonymous reviewer asks me a question, since I can't answer when they're not signed in. :(


	15. Chapter 14: Casino Labyrinth

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Fallout. Fallout belongs to Bethesda, who purchased the rights from Black Isle.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Fallout:** New Vegas

Unknown Origins

By _Cyberweasel89_

**Chapter 14:** Casino Labyrinth

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"You're... You're Nero's son?" the Courier gaped. Even Edy seemed awestruck.

"Yes. My father has something big planned, something that will kill a lot of innocent people. Between you and me, we can break up what my father and Big Sal are planning. Maybe save some lives."

"But... Why would you help me? You're Nero's son." Edy beeped in agreement.

"I may be Nero's son, but I'm nothing like him. I don't want to see their plan come to fruition. My father, Nero, and his right-hand man, Big Sal, have been working for a while on this. They're arming themselves like an army, using a man named Troike. They also brought in a specialist named Clanden. At least, that's what they introduced him as."

"What kind of specialist is Clanden?"

"I really have no idea. They let him have free reign across Gomorrah, though. He seems like a nice guy, but... he makes me nervous."

"What do you mean?"

The young man shifted uncomfortably. "Well, he's... a little arrogant, but... he's too nice. Too open. I've never seen him gambling or talking to any of the women. Everyone has a vice, as I've learned, but Clanden seems like a saint."

"And tell me about Troike, please?"

"He's very skittish. He spends half the day abusing his body with chems and the other half abusing the bodies of the women. He has some connections, so he's able to smuggle very large shipments of weapons onto the Strip. My father and Big Sal have him at their every beck and call. They covered up a girl he killed while on a Psycho high, so he gets them guns in exchange for keeping it secret."

"Is that why the Omertas stopped buying from Mick and Ralph?"

"Indeed it is."

"D-Do you know anything else about what Nero and Big Sal are planning?"

"No, just that it involves firearms and manpower. Also that it's big. Very big. Only my father and Big Sal know all the details, and they refuse to tell me anything."

"So... What do you propose we do?"

"First, we need to talk to Clanden and Troike. See if we can find out what's going on. This casino is large and the hallways are winding, so I'll lead you anywhere. I'll also tell the guards that you're a friend of mine. That should get you into some restricted areas, especially if I'm with you."

"I'm... Still not sure I trust you... I mean, you're Nero's son."

"I understand that. But look at Joana and Carlitos. They trusted you, even though you were a total stranger. And from the stories I've heard, a lot of people have trusted you when you offered help. I'm not asking you to do the same for me. I just ask that you give me a chance. Let me prove myself. Good parents can raise rotten kids. In the same way, rotten parents can raise good kids. I'm nothing like my father. I promise."

"Well... I don't know..."

Edy beeped.

"What? Edy, you want me to trust him?"

She beeped again.

The Courier sighed. "Fine..." she turned to the young man. "I'll give you a shot. What's your name?"

"Sodom" He reached out a hand to shake.

"Sodom? Well... I'm the Courier." She shook his hand.

"If you won't tell me your real name, that's fine. All the rumors around the Strip only call you the Courier, so I had a feeling you hid your real name. It's understandable. Now follow me, please. I know where to find Troike."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

It was a good thing she had a guide. Sodom seemed to know exactly where to go, while the twisting halls, stairways, and doors just confused her. Even Edy seemed slightly frazzled. They eventually came upon a man with shaggy hair, leather pants, and a dirty white T-shirt.

"Who are you? I didn't do anything. Leave me alone."

"Hi, Troike."

"Oh! Sodom! Didn't see you behind the girl at first. Who's she?"

"A friend of mine. We were chatting, and I mentioned you. She asked what you did for the family, and I figured it would be better if you told her directly."

"Uh, I'm just a guest here. Having a little fun."

"It's okay, Troike. You can tell her."

The Courier tried to smile warmly up at him.

The man sighed. "Can't say anything, kid. Don't wanna get killed."

"P-Please!" the Courier exclaimed. "We're trying to help break up what the bosses have planned!"

"Yeah? Well fuck that. The bosses have my number and I'm a company man so long as they have the goods on me."

"Oh, right. The prostitute. Please, tell me what happened with it."

Troike looked unsure. "It's okay. You can tell her, Troike." Sodom assured him.

"Oh, man. I don't even like to think about it. All that goddamn blood. It was just in the hotel like any other night. I took some chems with the girl I was with, but I never black out. I did this time, though. Next thing I knew, I woke up and she was next to me stabbed dead. There was a knife next to the bed and I was covered in her blood."

"Do you know where the knife came from?" the Courier asked him.

"I keep a little switchblade tucked away with me. You never know when you might find some trouble."

"What kind of chems were you taking?"

"That night? Mostly Buffout. I like to cut it with a little bit of Jet, then wash it down with some whiskey. That was my standard Saturday night."

"Hm... That doesn't sound like enough to make you lose the whole night..."

"What? Yeah, you're right. I wonder what was up with that..."

"Hm... How did the Family find out about it?"

"When I saw the body, I started screamin'. In a few seconds some of their soldiers were in there cleanin' up the room. They offered to keep silent about what happened if I agreed to help them get their hands on large quantities of guns, at deep discounts."

"Who have you been doing business with?" Sodom asked.

"I been talkin' directly to Big Sal, mostly."

"Okay. We'll have to search his office. Can you get me in, Sodom?" the Courier asked the young man.

"You bet I can. Let's go."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The door to Big Sal's office was open, surprisingly. The safe on the wall looked suspicious, though. The Courier tried to open it, but it was locked tight.

"Oh, if I only I had Veronica with me. She could pick it no problem."

"Let me try. I have my uses." Sodom offered.

He stepped up to the safe and pulled a bobby pin and screwdriver from his pocket, setting to work on the lock.

"Keep watch at the door, please. This may take a while. I don't have a lockpicking kit or anything, so it'll take longer with just this bobby pin."

The Courier complied, shutting the door and leaning against it.

"So, Sodom..." she began. "How come you aren't a cruel, sadistic person like Nero, Big Sal, and Cachino?"

"Well... I may be Nero's son, but he doesn't treat me like one. I'm more just an annoyance. The only reason I'm next in line to take over once my father dies is because of my bloodline. The Omerta guards have trained me as an enforcer, but it was the women who raised me."

"You were raised by the prostitutes?"

"Please, don't call them that. They're more than their occupation."

"Sorry."

"It's okay. But believe it or not, some of the nicest people I've ever met worked here at Gomorrah as prostitutes. They taught me manners, honesty, work ethic, and how to pleasure a woman."

"Wait... You mean...?"

"What? Oh, no. Nothing like that. I don't want to make things harder for the women, so nothing direct. But they had me watch demonstrations a lot when I was growing up. It's all second-hand knowledge and lessons."

"Hm..." She couldn't see why this young man was still single. He was kind, and he had such charm.

"Got it!"

With a click, the safe swung open. Inside, the found a holotape, which the Courier loaded into her Pip-Boy. It was a note that showed proof that Troike didn't murder the girl. He was framed with spiked Jet and blackmailed for cheap weapons, while the murdered girl served as a warning to the other women at Gomorrah. With that in hand, they made their way back to Troike.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Troike! Troike!" The Courier ran up, Sodom in tow.

"You again? Make it quick."

"We found proof of your blackmail! You didn't kill that girl!" She showed him the note in her Pip-Boy.

"Well, that motherfucker. What the hell. Damn, thanks for finding this. This should be plenty of proof to cover my ass if they try to rat me out to any authorities."

"So you'll help us? Then please tell us, where are they keeping the guns?"

"They're keeping them in a little utility section down off the basement. I don't know what they're armin' themselves for, but I know it isn't for the good of mankind."

"Where do the guns come from?"

"I've made a lot of contacts over the years. I have some friends back in California that can get their hands on just about anything. Mostly, I've been calling in every last favor I have."

"How do you get the guns onto the Strip?"

"I'm pretty proud of myself. It's a stroke of genius, if I can be so modest. The whole arrangement starts with an old buddy of mine in the Republic. He's responsible for packin' and shippin' supplies to the NCR on the Strip. He marks some containers as food and medical and packs them with guns and other shit. From there, it took just a couple of greased palms to get someone to let me cherry pick a container or two out of every shipment. Easy as pie."

"What can we do to take care of the guns?"

"As a little pet project, I've been makin' some thermite. Thermite burns as hot as the devil's asshole and can melt through just about anything. I've been keepin' it so if the Family betrays me, I can hopefully do some damage before I end up dead or in jail."

"Thermite? What's that?"

"Thermite is a mix of rust and aluminum dust. If you add a little heat, a massive amount of heat is spit out. It gives off enough heat to melt through just about anything. It should make short work of the weapons."

"Okay. Give us the thermite and we'll destroy the weapons."

"I'll be right back, then."

Troike left, returning about an hour later with a large jar and a key.

"Okay, here's the thermite and a key to the room where the guns are stored. Spread the thermite on the crates in the room." He handed both to her. "I rigged the light switch in the room to kick off a spark big enough to hold the thermite. That should turn that shit into molten slag. As soon as we're done talkin', I'm gonna make myself like a ghost. I don't wanna be anywhere near here when the bosses find out."

"Thank you, Troike. You've been a big help." She lurched forward and hugged him. The man shifted uncomfortably before gently patting her on the back. When she let go, Troike nodded to them both and ran off. The Courier turned to Sodom.

"Okay, can you take me to the utility closet, please?"

"Of course. Follow me."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Finding and unlocking the utility closet, they found it filled with crates, trunks, and boxes full of weapons. They laid a thin layer of thermite on all the crates and made their way out of the room.

"You can do the honors of flipping the light switch." Sodom told her.

"Um... Okay, thanks."

"Oh, but first." He pulled the latch and closed the door. "Don't want the blast hitting us."

"Right."

The Courier flipped the light switch and a blinding flash of white-hot heat shined forth from the door. When it settled, they took a look inside to find the crates, and the weapons in them, decimated.

"What next, then?" the Courier asked Sodom.

"Now we take care of Clanden."

"Okay."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

They found Clanden in his room. He was a bearded man with neatly kept hair and dressed nicely. Sodom decided to wait outside. Clanden had caught him snooping around his room earlier, so he didn't want him to get suspicious.

"Hey, nice to meet you. Do you need help with something?" Clanden greeted her.

"Um... Hi. Clanden, right? What do you do around here?" the Courier asked him.

"A little bit of this, and a little bit of that."

"Okay, so... How did you end up with one of the hotel suites?"

"I'm a close friend of some of the family around here. I do some independent contracting around the casino, and they set me up with this great room."

This was going nowhere. "Um... C-Cachino sent me to talk to you."

"Cachino? Yeah, I've heard the name. Not sure why he'd send you to me. Is he helping out with room service or something?"

"Uh... N-Nevermind..."

Sighing, she returned to Sodom. "How'd it go?" he asked.

"I spoke to Clanden, but I couldn't get anything out of him." she explained.

"I figured you might have that problem. Clanden is quite the mystery. I did some asking around about him while you were in there. I figured the Omertas guarding the rooms around here might know something. Turns out the Bosses' plans are pretty much ruined without him. If we could find something on him to convince him to leave, it would do wonders. One of the guards gave me a key to his room. It might open the safe in there." He handed it to her.

"Okay. Thanks, Sodom."

She snuck her way in, making sure Clanden didn't see her, and opened the safe behind his dresser. Inside she found a holotape, which she pocketed and quietly returned to Sodom.

"Back already? What did you find?" he asked.

"This." The Courier loaded the holotape into her Pip-Boy, and they were greeted with the sounds of violent sex and murder, with clear sounds of Clanden's voice. The Courier was deeply disturbed, and she looked to see Sodom shaking.

"Sodom?"

"I'm fine. But I got a tip from another guard while you were in there."

"What did you find, Sodom?" she asked him.

"There's a locked door in the suites level. Follow me and I'll get it open."

They made their way through the twisting corridors of the suites level to a locked door in the hallway, which Sodom easily unlocked. Even Edy recoiled at the sight that greeted them. Inside was a room covered in blood, a Gomorrah prostitute lying dead on a table. The young man promptly threw up onto the floor. The Courier grimaced and stepped forward to examine the body.

"It looks like the girl was tortured for several hours before being murdered. If I had to guess, she wasn't killed less than a day ago." The Courier mused.

She look to see Sodom leaning against a wall, his entire body shaking. The Courier walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder, but he flinched away.

"Sodom? Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry..." he said, barely above a whisper. "I guess I'm not... not used to this. I can't believe... he would do this to one of the girls. Worst of all... I know her."

The Courier hugged him. "I'm sorry, Sodom..."

"I-It's okay... We need to go confront Clanden with this information."

"Okay. Don't worry, Sodom. Her death won't be in vain."

They returned to Clanden's room, this time Sodom going in with her.

"Good to see you again. Oh, and hey Sodom." he greeted them.

"I think the authorities may want to see these tapes I found in your safe, Clanden." The Courier told him.

"I think I should kill you before you have a chance to show those tapes to anyone. What do I have to lose?"

"Wait! You can't have the tapes, but I'll keep them to myself if you leave and never come back, okay?"

"I guess you've made your choice, then. Time to die."

He pulled out his pistol and fired faster than the Courier could react. The Courier braced herself, but when she opened her eyes, Sodom was standing there, clutching his bleeding abdomen.

"You!" the Courier screamed at Clanden. She jumped in and nailed him with a kick to the chest, shattering his ribs. As he lay on the ground, dying, she stomped his neck to put him out of his misery.

Running to Sodom, she pulled out some stimpaks and injected them into his wound. "I can't believe you did that for me..."

Sodom grunted in pain. "Now... D-Do you trust me?" he asked.

The Courier looked up into his eyes. "Yes." She whispered, leaning in and capturing his mouth in a kiss. He returned it. When his tongue requested entry, she opened her mouth for him, surprised at his skill with kissing. She reached down and grabbed his hand, placing it on her breast. She was disappointed when he pulled away, but his hand remained there.

"We... We shouldn't... I mean..."

"Please?" she gave him big, doe-like eyes.

"Um... I mean, I've never..."

"Don't worry. I'll show you. Just follow me, okay?"

"Well, uh... O-Okay..."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Sodom sat at the end of the bed, buckling his belt. He... He couldn't believe he just did that. The Courier, not _a_ courier, but _the_ Courier, lay naked in the very bed he sat on. All those second-hand lessons with the women of Gomorrah... and here he actually got to try them out on an amazing girl. It was... incredible.

He was brought out of his musings by a pair of arms wrapping over his shoulders and a set of bare breasts pressed into his equally bare back.

"Hey, Sodom. Just so you know... the girls of Gomorrah taught you well." She kissed his ear.

"Um... Thanks, Courier."

"None of that. I want you to know my real name."

"No... Not yet. We have more pressing matters to discuss."

She settled into a sitting position next to him, unashamed of her nudity as she leaned onto his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his arm, wedging it between her breasts. He had to fight back a blush. "What's the next step, then? Clanden is gone, Troike is freed, and the weapons are destroyed."

"Now... Now we cut off the head of the serpent. We have to confront my father and Big Sal. As it is, they can start up their plans again. All we've managed to do is stall them. I guarantee you they have contingencies."

"Okay. So what do we do?"

Shit, her warm breath on his skin... he couldn't think straight. "I'm... I'm betting they're fairly upset about what's been done to their plans. Earlier I found Cachino's journal and left it on my father's desk. They're probably already making plans to cut him off, so the investigation as to who caused it will go to me. There isn't going to be a better chance to get both of them in the same room. It'll be the perfect chance to talk them out of this."

"Okay. I'm ready."

"Not yet, you aren't. Get dressed and head to the casino. I'll have one of the Omerta guards come and get you when I've set up the meeting."

She kissed his cheek. "Thanks, Sodom. And my name... It's Kaya Wylde."

He blushed. "Such a pretty name... Okay... Miss Wylde."

"Kaya, please."

"As you wish... Kaya."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

A few hours later, an Omerta guard came and got her. And he wasn't gentle in taking her up through the maze-like hallways and stairs to Nero's office. She was tossed into the room, the guard shutting it behind her and walking away. She found Nero and Big Sal, each with a hand in their guns, with Sodom standing aside.

"Let's have some words. Take a seat on the couch so we can get to talking." Big Sal told her. She nervously did so.

"So I assume you know why we called you here?" Big Sal asked her.

"Um... I h-hear you lost some guns."

"Yeah, we lost some guns you little minx. However, we can get more guns. You slowed us down, but you can't stop us. You're gonna die a failure."

"Uh... A-As a last request, could you tell me more about your plan?"

"Are you shitting me? You didn't even know what the plan was? Yeah, as a last request I guess we can give you that courtesy."

"Okay, um... Th-Thank you."

"Caesar asked us to provide a distraction on the Strip. So when he gives the word, we're gonna launch an all out assault on the Strip. First we're gonna blow the Embassy, then we're gonna use soldiers to kill every last motherfucker on the Strip. Then, we'll run this joint. That'll teach Not-At-Home what can go on while he sits in his fucking ivory tower lording down from on high.

She took a deep breath to calm herself. "Hm... Well, Nero didn't tell me any of this when he told me to take you out."

"The fuck? I knew there had to be someone higher up helping you. Nero, you backstapping, two-timing motherfucker. I knew this day would come!"

"But Big Sal, you told me to take out Nero, too!"

"What?" Nero roared. "Sonofabitch!"

They both fired at each other at once... and both fell to the ground, dead, at the same time. The Courier gasped, both hands to her mouth, while Sodom's jaw dropped.

"What... What the hell just happened?" Sodom exclaimed.

"I... I don't know! I thought that... if they thought they were betraying each other, they would break up their partnership! I didn't think they'd kill each other!"

Sodom sighed. "It's... It's okay."

Tears fell from the Courier's eyes. "No, it's not! I just killed your father!"

He ran over and wrapped her in a hug. "I said it's okay. My father... he didn't love me. And I didn't love him. But now that both are out of the way... I guess I'm running Gomorrah."

She looked up at him with tear-stained cheeks. "But... will you be okay?"

"Don't worry. I'll run a tight ship. No more hooking prostitutes with Med-X. I'm closing down Gomorrah until all of them are clean and detoxed. If they still want to work here, that's up to them. But from now one, we're holding the same policy as the Atomic Wrangler. The prostitutes are not slaves. They choose who they service. I'll also start buying weapons from Mick and Ralph again."

"What about the other Omertas? They won't be happy, will they?" she sobbed.

"Don't worry. The Omertas all like me. And they respect me. I'll run Gomorrah right. Don't you worry. But... It's probably best you go."

"Will I ever see you again?" she whimpered.

"Probably not. Omertas can't be with people outside the family. And we live in different worlds. I need to run this casino, while you have your own destiny to fulfill. Goodbye, Kaya." He placed a gentle kiss on her lips. "I'll miss you."

She kissed back. "Goodbye, Sodom..."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The next day, sheand her companions made their way to Freeside, to inform Mick and Ralph of the news. The Courier walked into the store with a heavy heart. She would miss Sodom... But she needed to keep her mind on the bigger picture.

"Welcome back! What can I get you?" Mick asked.

"Good news! The Omertas say they'll buy arms from you again!" the Courier told him with a bright smile on her face.

"Outstanding! You have no idea how much this means to me, but I think this little beauty will give you an idea. Mind if I take your Pip-Boy for a while?"

"Um... Sure." She removed her Pip-Boy and handed it to him. Mick promptly disappeared upstairs.

It was an hour later when he came back with something held behind him. "Take a look at this."

What he unveiled was...

"Oh my God!" The Courier squealed. "A... A golden Pip-Boy? Really?"

"You bet!" he helped affix it to her wrist. "Gold-plated, platinum trim, and encrusted with diamonds. I call it a Pimp-Boy 3 Billion."

The Courier stared up at Mick with wide, doe-like eyes. "You're... You're giving this to me? Seriously?"

"You bet! And that's not all. I can give each of your friends Pip-Boy 3000s, too. I can even link them with a walkie-talkie function."

"Wait, really? But... Where'd you get that many Pip-Boys?"

"Let's just say I have connections. You like it?"

"Oh my God, you bet I do! This is awesome!"

"Crap..." Rocket sighed. "Now I won't be the only one with a Pip-Boy."

Raul chuckled and rubbed the top of the Boomer child's head. "Don't worry about it. You can teach each of us how to use ours."

"Hm... A chance to act clearly superior to all of you? How can I pass that up?"

Most of them chuckled at that.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Author's Notes:

**1.** Other possible titles for this chapter were "Who designed this place?", "Stupid architects", and "It's like a maze in here".

**2.** For a set of three chapters of shout-outs in a row, I have two more. First is "The Legend of the Wandering Pair from Vault 101" by Nave Ninja. It features a male Lone Wanderer who has actually taken Amata with him out into the Capital Wasteland. Navey's also writing a New Vegas fic. X3

**3.** Second is the "All the Things You Are" storyline by Pookie2. This is another series of fics that caused me to choose against a cheerful, perky Courier. The storyline is split into several different fanfics that focus on a different part of the Fallout: New Vegas storyline.


	16. Chapter 15: Cannibal Cantina

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Fallout. Fallout belongs to Bethesda, who purchased the rights from Black Isle.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Fallout:** New Vegas

Unknown Origins

By _Cyberweasel89_

**Chapter 15:** Cannibal Cantina

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"And that concludes your lessons on how to use your Pip-Boys properly. Any questions?"

"Um..."

"Too bad. Now get out of here. You don't have to go home but you can't stay here."

"Rocket, we live here."

"Details, details."

Sighing, the Courier slumped down at the dining room table and took another look at her upgraded Pimp-Boy 3 Billion. It really was amazing. A gold-plated, platinum-trimmed, diamond-encrusted version of the standard Pip-Boy 3000. It was so shiny, too. She just hoped it wouldn't attract unwanted attention to her.

"I'm bored!" the ghoulified Boomer child announced.

"Then just go gamble, or something." Cass told her.

"You know they banned me at the Tops, and Gomorrah is closed, thanks to a certain _someone_."

All eyes turned to the Courier, who fidgeted nervously. "I told you I was sorry! It'll be open again soon!"

"There's always the Ultra-Luxe." Arcade pointed out.

"Hm... Yeah, I think I'll go ban myself from that one next." Rocket decided, rubbing her palms together eagerly. "Anyone want to go with me? It's dangerous for a cute little girl like me to walk the streets of Vegas alone."

"Rocket, there's so many things I could say in response to that, but I'll be the mature one and not say anything." Veronica spoke up.

"Hey, fuck you, little miss hidey-hair."

"Stop. Both of you. I'll take you to the Ultra-Luxe, Rocket." The Courier announced.

"Sweet! Let's go!"

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"If you don't mind, I have to look after my husband."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Um... Where are you from?"

She wasn't sure why she struck up a conversation with this woman, but... something told her she and her husband were in trouble.

"Oh, a good ways west of here, in a place you've never been. Far as we're concerned, only name it ever had was 'Phebus Ranch'. That was before we lost some land to Heck Gunderson. The bank demanded payment in full the day after the Stockmen's Association bailed it out."

"Oh? What's life as a rancher like?"

Rocket sighed. The Courier knew the ghoulified Boomer child wanted to get to the Ultra-Luxe, but she would have to be patient.

"A good life if you don't mind hard work. The only real fuss is the constant bother with varmints. Fail to catch mole rats early in their breeding, and you'll have three or four head breaking their ankles in mole rat holes every day. Of course, the worst varmint of all is a brahmin baron with his hands in the pockets of a Republic senator. That's a problem you can't solve with a varmint rifle, though I fear my husband's apt to try."

"Okay... So what brought you and him to the Strip?"

"He's got his reasons. And when that man gets a notion stuck in his head, he's like a bighorner bull that's seen red. And if it means Heck Gunderson's involved, then you better step aside before the stampede tramples you over."

"What's so important about Heck Gunderson?"

"If that's what you want to talk about, go see Walter. He'll talk your ear off. Everything he says about the evils of Heck Gunderson is true, but I've never held the notion that fighting evil with evil carries the world forward."

"Is there some way I could help you out, Mrs. Phebus?"

"I don't suppose you have the magic powers necessary to bring my husband to his senses, do you? He swears he won't leave this godforsaken city until he's seen Heck suffer. So far as I can see, we're the only ones in pain."

"Hm... I'll see what I can do."

"That's very kind of you. Maybe this'll be the dawn of a new day."

Walter Phebus was over on the other side of the bench, talking to a street vendor. She walked over and waited until he was done, noticing her and turning to face her.

"Howdy, young lady. How can I help you? But make it quick. Goddamn heat's worse in this town than in the middle of a brahmin herd at noon."

"You look more than just too hot. What's the matter?"

"Sharp eyes on you, all right. We've gone through a heap a trouble to get in town. Ethel says I just need to wet my throat. A drink? Nonsense. All I need right now is to settle a score. We didn't come a long ways just to stroll our best clothes around."

"Um... Settle a score?"

"There's a long list of grievances that Heck Gunderson's got to answer for, kid. I'm here to make sure that 'rancher' stops stealing our land. If he ain't chiseling behind your back, he just sends his men, ready for a fight. Then you either 'sell' your ranch for a penny or you're dead. I'm tired of being trampled over, kid, and I got a good mind to stop Heck once and for all."

"How is Heck a threat to ranchers in the wasteland?"

"We are honest folk out there. Damn hard to making a living in the desert, kid. Heck's a different breed. Goddamn thief, he is. Scaring us into giving away our lands is all he's done to strike it flush. Comes packing iron and none can hold a candle to his men. Bad blood."

"What else can you tell me about Heck Gunderson?"

"What more you want? He's a slithering snake, what he is. One of the biggest landowners this side of the Colorado and it's all stolen, I tell you. All that money buys him any NCR senators he wants. Scoundrels, like Heck. There's just no way for us small folks to get by, much less prosper, kid."

"What do you plan to do about him?"

"I have no illusions that he'll ever stop his plundering. So I'm just going to make him suffer, that's what I'm gonna do. Here in town, he's got a few of his armed men to protect him. I just gotta find out what he's up to and then I'll know where to hit him hard."

The Courier frowned, shaking her head. "No. Revenge is never the answer. Vengeance will only lead to more deaths of innocent people."

"Kid, look around you. There's poison and death everywhere, and people like Heck are responsible for the misery we suffer. What right do they have to continue with their mischief and killing, huh?"

"No... You're just giving them the excuse they need."

"Hell, a good thrashing is what I wanna give them. But I see your point, kid. Things will never change without us good folks. All right, I'm gonna get Ethel far away from this damn city and head back home. There's a worthy life waiting for us there. Thanks for your help, kid. So long!"

"Bye, Mr. and Mrs. Phebus!" the Courier waved to them as they began a leisurely walk down the street.

"Can we go, now?" Rocket groaned.

"Rocket! Learn some patience. We just did a good thing."

"Screw good things! I need me some gamblin'!"

The Courier sighed. "Fine. Let's go."

They made their way further down the street to the front of the Ultra-Luxe, where the Courier found a piece of paper on the ground labeled 'Fine Dining'. She picked it up and gave it a read-over.

"These past few years, the very idea of 'fine dining' has seemed beyond our grasp. Indeed, where does one even begin to look for something artfully prepared and beautifully presented by a world-class chef? Well, fellow epicures, I have found the one place left on this Godforsaken earth with Real Food. I present to you the Ultra-Luxe. Ignore the rabble on the street, the petty farmers and everyman-types rubbing their pitiful few caps together in an attempt to elevate themselves to some semblance of class. Ignore the filthy, disease-ridden prostitutes of Gomorrah, whoring themselves to anyone with coin. Walk briskly to the fabulous Ultra-Luxe, the only building in New Vegas worth your attention. You'll know it when you see it. Enter the doors of their restaurant, the Gourmand, and speak with the lovely Marjorie. She'll arrange for your care. Dally not, for reservations must be made as early as possible. A sumptuous feast awaits you, dear friends."

"Why the fuck did you read that out loud?" the ghoulified Boomer child asked.

"Rocket! Watch your language!"

"Shit, since when were you my mother?"

The Courier sighed, scanning the note into her Pimp-Boy and placing it in the nearest trash bin. They made their way into the Ultra-Luxe, much to Rocket's delight.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Beg your pardon, but could I trouble you to turn over your weapons?"

Wow, it was just like Rotface said. The White Gloves really did wear masks.

"Could I trouble you to blow it out your ass, maskface?"

"Rocket! That's so rude!" she turned to the man. "Of course. I'm afraid I don't have any weapons, but my friend has a flamer." With a sharp glare to Rocket, the ghoulified Boomer child begrudgingly handed over her beloved flamer.

"My deepest apologies for the slightest inconvenience. You have my assurance that everything will be returned upon your departure. But we simply can't have anyone waving their weapons around in the hotel. It's not the atmosphere we wish to cultivate. Please, enjoy your stay."

"If you need me, I'll be at the roulette table, breakin' the bank." Rocket announced, storming past the Courier and to the nearest roulette table.

Sighing, the Courier stepped up to the bar to see if they had anything to drink. She doubted they stocked Nuka-Cola here, but it was worth a shot.

"Welcome to Top Shelf. The drinks cost twice as much during happy hour, but they draw twice the attention, too." The bartender greeted her.

"Uh... Do you carry Nuka-Cola?"

"But of course. Forty caps, please."

"What? Seriously?"

"Of course. Like I said, the drinks cost twice as much during happy hour."

"Nevermind, then..." the Courier sighed.

A second bartender walked up and handed her a Nuka-Cola. "Courtesy of the gentleman over there." he told her. The Courier looked to see a man in a nice brown suit and black cowboy hat sitting at the bar with a man holding a rifle standing next to him. He lifted his glass to her in acknowledgement. Grabbing the Nuka-Cola, the Courier walked over to sit next to the man.

"Um... Thanks. Do you want something?"

"Little lady, I find forty caps for a Nuka-Cola to be highway robbery. Just flash a pretty smile for me and we'll consider it even."

The Courier did more than that. She blushed and giggled. "Thanks." She sipped the drink, swirling the magical nectar around her tongue to savor the taste.

"Beg your pardon, little lady, but I'm lookin' for someone. You ain't seen a young man with dark brown hair and a white hat lately, have you?"

"Um... No, I haven't. I'm sorry..."

The man sighed. "Ain't nobody got one darned piece of news about my boy? Not one lousy speck of information? Ain't got one brahmin unaccounted for across a dozen ranches, but I'm here for an hour and my own son just up and disappears on me."

He sounded so sad... "Um... You're a rancher?"

"Yep. Got a whole mess a brahmin to my name. Bighorners, too. Even dabble a bit in pig rats, centisheep, and wasteland penguins. Used to just have one ranch, but land was easy to find before the soldiers moved in. Before I knew it I was running one of the biggest ranching operations east of California. Now everywhere I go, folks I never even met shake my hand and call me 'Mr. Gunderson'. Don't quite know what to make of that."

"Gunderson? As in... Heck Gunderson?"

"Oh, you've heard of me too, huh?"

"Um... Yeah... So... Why is your bodyguard allowed to have a gun?"

"Made me a special arrangement with the hotel. They want to do business with me, they got to play by my rules. Lot a people out there resent success, might wanna take a swipe at me. This makes them think twice. If I'd have been thinking, though, I'd have had him watching my boy instead. Then none of this would've happened."

"You lost your son?"

"My boy, Ted. He was right here! I didn't leave him but a minute. I told him to stay put while I talked some things over with the White Glove folks. He was never one to stay tied down to a spot, though. Gets that from his mother. Got most of my staff out looking for him now. I'd be out myself, but I keep hoping he'll show up back here. Course if he does I'll whup him till his skinny hide turns to leather for puttin' me through this. But that don't mean I wouldn't be grateful."

"What business do you have here at the hotel, Mr. Gunderson?"

"That's between me and the White Glove Society. But let's just say they control the food supply around here, and I got lots of food to give, but that ain't as welcome as you might think."

"Hm..." From what she'd heard, this man was evil. But... he seemed so nice... "Um... I can help you find your son."

"I'd be more than happy to have you. Heck, I'll hire anybody with a pair of legs and at least one good eye at this point." The Courier blushed and shifted her legs uncomfortably, blinking her single eye. "There'd be a lot of money in it for you if you can get him back to me safe. And if he ain't, you can bet I'll pay for the names of the sons of bitches responsible."

"Don't worry, Mr. Gunderson. I'll get your son back."

"Thanks, little lady. I think I owe you another Nuka-Cola, at the very least. If you need me, I'll be here."

"Hang on. If I do this, you have to promise one thing."

"All right, let's hear it, little lady."

"I hear you've been threatening and scaring honest ranchers into giving up their land. You need to stop that."

"What? I am? I have been?"

"Huh? You didn't know?"

"Well... I tend to hire people down on their luck who can't find a job, like ex-criminals. I suppose it's possible they've been doing this on their own. It certainly would explain a lot..."

"Hm..." His words... he sounded sincere. "Well, look into it, please. I'll go look for your son, Mr. Gunderson."

"Of course. Thank you, little lady."

She made her way deeper into the casino, finding a man in a tuxedo and top hat, but no mask, standing at a counter. She walked up and greeted him.

"Hi there."

"Greetings. I am Mortimer. How may I be of service, madam?"

"What can you tell me about your organization?"

"My, such a popular question. I suppose it is only natural to see us and wonder what it is that makes us so special. The White Glove Society has only just made itself known to the public, of course, but our pedigree was established over generations. Were we always so refined? Heh. I'd be lying if I said yes. But I've always felt we were destined for a place atop modern society. And now, here we are. Not everyone can wear the finest clothes and eat the finest foods, obviously. That's just the reality we live in. But surely we can agree that the most tasteful, sophisticated people are the most deserving. That's what the White Glove Society is all about."

"Um... Okay..." That sounded messed up... "Is there any way I can help out the White Glove Society, Mr. Mortimer, sir?"

"Help? No, not from the likes of you, I'm afraid. I don't think you'd have the stomach for it. Better look elsewhere."

She gazed down sadly. "Oh... Um... Okay... Goodbye..."

"Indeed."

As she turned around, she noticed another White Glove without a mask. He seemed to be deep in though. "Um... Hi..." she greeted him.

"Good day." He greeted back.

"Um... Why is everyone around her dressed up and wearing masks?"

"Those are all members of the White Glove Society. Our founder, Marjorie, gave us all a dress code. There's only one rule to it. In her words, we must dress in such a way that no one can be said to have dressed better than us. As for the masks, I'm not allowed to tell you. We've sworn to secrecy... Actually, that's not true. That's just what we're supposed to say. I think Marjorie likes them for the mystery they create. And the way they make it clear that we're different from everyone else. But... you didn't hear that from me."

The Courier smiled up at him. "Thanks. Um... Where's your mask?"

"Ugh. Must've forgotten to put it on. How embarrassing."

The Courier giggled. "It's okay. Um... I'm the Courier." She reached a hand out to shake, which he obliged.

"Chauncey. You must be the Courier the Strip has been all abuzz about. You're always busy with helping people, huh? Are you here on a job?"

"Yeah, you could say that. I'm looking for someone."

"Oh. Well, it's a big hotel. You should talk to Marjorie. She's in charge and she can probably help you find anyone you might need. She usually works at the front of the Gourmand. She likes to see how people respond to it. You can get to the Gourmand from the lobby here. It's a big set of double doors on the first floor of the eastern side. Can't miss it."

"Thanks. Bye, Chauncey."

"Farewell."

She made her way down the hall, finding the doorway to the Gourmand, and entered, stepping up to the front desk where an unmasked White Glove was standing.

"Welcome to the Ultra-Luxe. I do hope it exceeds your every expectation."

"Um... D-Do you work here?"

"I do, but one can hardly call it work. I think of myself as a caretaker rather than a common laborer. I suppose it is a labor of love if it can be called labor at all. We at the White Glove Society are all responsible for maintaining the beauty and class of the Ultra-Luxe. And as its founder, I suppose it falls to me to decide how we go about it."

"Okay... Uh... You must be Marjorie. Um... Heck Gunderson said he was here to talk business with you. What business?"

"What else? Mr. Gunderson and I have been discussing his livestock. It's put us in a rather delicate position, you see, his coming here. Not that we aren't grateful for his generous offer. But our executive chef Philippe has transformed brahmin steak into a delicacy. He really is a genius. Everyone wants it. But a delicacy is just that, delicate. If everyone can get it, it ceases to be a delicacy. It becomes a perfectly ordinary staple. And if the Gourmand served staples, it would no longer draw the caliber of people it deserves. It would be a diner or a... a _family_ restaurant. So as much as we'd all love for there to be enough steak for everyone, I'm afraid there are more important things to consider."

"Uh... Okay...?" Wow, that sounded messed up. "Um... I'm looking for someone who went missing here recently."

"This again? I thought this was all settled. I answered every one of that investigator's questions to his satisfaction and gave all the help I could. I know our reputation hasn't always been spotless, but that's all in the past now. How some people can't get over it is beyond me. For the last time, the White Glove Society has never and will never consume human flesh for any reason. It's written in the charter."

"Wait, wait, wait... The White Glove Society used to eat human flesh?" The Courier's eye widened.

"Now, didn't I already tell you that we don't do that sort of thing? We do not engage in cannibalism here under any circumstances. Though we haven't always been the White Glove Society. There was another time, a dark time, when we went by a different name. But that's all changed now! We've... evolved past such base impulses since settling into our new home. I've seen to it that those days are behind us."

"Thank you. I'm happy people can change. It's good that you aren't cannibals anymore. You did the right thing. Um... Wh-Who did you talk to about the disappearance, though?"

"There was an investigator who came through here last week. He'd been hired by a young man who's bride-to-be went missing during their stay here. Well, you can already guess what probably happened, can't you? It seems perfectly likely that she got cold feet and ran off. And that young groom just didn't have a clue, the poor dear."

Two disappearances in the Ultra-Luxe? Hmm... "I'm investigating someone else. A young man. And he just recently went missing."

"A young man? Well then this... well this can't be. Two disappearances in my hotel? What will people say? I'm going to have a word from my staff about security on the premises. Whether these people are found or not, our guests simply must feel safe in their own rooms."

"Uh... The investigator you mentioned... Is there any way I could talk to him, please?"

"Why yes, I think so. If he hasn't checked out yet, that is. I had our maitre d', Mortimer, offer him a complimentary room for as long as it took for him to be satisfied. You see? The White Glove Society remains the very picture of courtesy, even in the face of such impolite accusations. We have nothing to hide here."

"Okay. I'll go talk to Mortimer. Thank you, Marjorie, miss."

"Ta-ta."

She returned to the lobby, finding Mortimer still at the desk.

"How may I be of service, madam?" he asked.

"Um... Marjorie said you gave a free room to a private investigator?"

"Private investigator... Ah, yes. I remember the gentleman. This was about the missing bride. Such an awful thing. I do hope he finds her whereabouts. If I might pry, have you found something that will help his investigation?"

"Actually, I'm on an investigation, too. I'm hoping we can help each other."

"You are? Nothing so grim as his investigation, I hope. Ordinarily, we don't give out guest information, but I think given the circumstances, he'll want to speak with you. Let's see..." He picked up a book from the desk and flipped through it a little. "He hasn't checked out yet. If you head to the hotel rooms, his will be one floor directly above you after you exit the lobby. I hope we can put this whole matter to rest at least." He handed her a key.

"Thanks, Mortimer, sir."

"Indeed."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

She found the hotel rooms and went upstairs, finding the first door on the right locked. The key Mortimer gave her unlocked it, but she wasn't prepared for the sight she found within.

The room looked ransacked, as if through some kind of struggle. Furniture was overturned and clutter lay strewn about the floor. Lying in a pool of blood was a man in a black suit and sunglasses, with orange-hued hair. Swallowing hard, she searched his pocket and found a matchbook. Something was scrawled on the back of it, but before she could get a good look, two White Gloves jumped her with dress canes! Distracted with the matchbook, the first one caught her by surprise and hit her on the back of the head with his cane. She stumbled forward, whirled around and punched the man in the stomach. As he doubled over, the second one came at her. The Courier flipped up and backward, kicking him on the chin and snapping his neck back. While the first was getting up, she kneed him in the nose, then stomped his neck to end him.

"That was... strange." Could the White Gloves themselves be responsible for both disappearances?

She picked the matchbook back up and took a look at what was written on it.

"Steam room. Four PM." Steam room?

The Courier walked outside the room, closing the door and turned to one of the guests sitting in the hall.

"Um... What's this about a steam room?" she asked.

"Oh! The Ultra-Luxe has a bathhouse with its own steam room."

The Courier's face brightened. "Really? That sounds wonderful!"

"Oh, it is. It was originally an indoor pool, but the White Gloves probably felt a public bathhouse was more refined."

"Wait... Public?"

"Yeah."

"So... Everyone bathes... together?"

"Yeah. That a problem?"

The Courier just swallowed hard.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The Courier took a deep breath and opened the door to the bathhouse. Inside was a small foyer where people could deposit their clothes in lockers. She couldn't just walk in fully dressed... That just wouldn't do. She'd have to... G-Get naked...

Taking deep breaths to calm herself, the Courier slipped off her backpack and stuffed it in the locker. Next came her boots. Then her boxing tape. Okay, final step. Her breaths becoming more erratic, she slipped her arms into her sleeves and pulled her prospector dress over her head, placing it in the locker. She wasted no time in running over to the nearby basket and grabbing a towel to wrap around herself. To her horror, she found the towel wouldn't fit around her. She'd said it once, she'd say it again. Stupid boobs!

Whimpering, the Courier held the towel against her front and made her way into the bathhouse. Okay, just ignore everyone. Don't look at anyone, and hope they don't look at you. Just get straight to the steam room. You can do this, Kaya. You can do this.

"Mommy, why is that girl's boobs so big?" She froze at the sound of a child's voice.

"That's rude! Don't point." a woman's voice scolded. "And she's just blessed."

A crimson blush from her cheeks to her neck, the Courier made a mad dash for the steam room, clutching her towel to her for dear life, bouncing be damned. She shut the door once inside and stepped back, taking a seat on the bench and trying to catch her breath.

Oh, God... that was so embarrassing... So humiliating... So... Arousing? What? No, no! She couldn't be... could she? Glancing about nervously, she lowered her hand to her sex and felt. It was sopping wet, and just a touch sent a jolt through her body. She... Should she? No, she couldn't. Not in public! But... She was really hot, and not just from the steam. The bathhouse was empty, and it was only 3:45, so... Swallowing hard, the Courier lowered her hand back down to her sex, prodding it with her fingers.

"Oh!" she gasped. It was strange... the slightest touch and she felt like she'd explode right there. Could it be that... Eddie was right? She got off on... exhibitionism?

It took only a little prodding and finger play before her body was racked with an orgasm. She clenched her teeth to keep from screaming as her entire body shook from the sheer force of it. When it was done, she bent over, panting and heaving.

"Ahem."

She looked up to see a White Glove. Chauncey, specifically. Fully dressed.

"EEK!" she shrieked, grabbing her discarded towel and holding it tightly against her breasts.

"Courier? What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I'm-I'm-I'm l-l-looking f-f-for s-someone!" she stammered, clenching her eyes shut and blushing furiously.

"So is the man I'm supposed to be meeting here. Where is he?"

She paused, realization hitting her. Chauncey was the one meeting the investigator? "He's dead." She stated grimly.

"Oh my goodness me! They must know he was talking to someone on the inside." He took a seat next to her on the bench. "They'll be watching everyone closer now. I _knew_ this was a mistake!"

"Who are you afraid of?" the Courier asked him.

"Mortimer. If he realizes it was me the investigator was planning to meet, he'll have me killed."

"So is Mortimer behind the disappearances?"

"Yes. The White Glove Society strictly forbids eating humans. But we weren't always the White Glove Society. Mortimer and some of the others have... regressed... to the old ways. They've taken many people over the last few months. But always from Freeside or secluded places where they wouldn't be missed. It wasn't enough. Lately they've gone for tourists here on the Strip. Even in the hotel. I guess that's the hazard of a cannibal becoming a gourmet. It's hard to please a refined palate."

"What were you supposed to discuss with the investigator, Chauncey?"

"The girl. The one who disappeared. I know what happened to her."

"How do you know what happened to her?"

"Because I distracted her fiancee while they took her. Well, I'm not proud of it, but I had to! They could see I was having second thoughts. Some of the White Gloves began meeting privately a while back. Started talking about how we'd lost our identity. I started attending because I thought it was about changing our politics. Then they started talking about returning to the old ways, and there was no way out. They'd kill me for the things I'd heard them say."

"So the girl was eaten? What about Ted Gunderson?"

"He's alive, as far as I know. They're trying to keep him fresh. Mortimer has special plans for him. The White Glove Society has a banquet every night at seven. It's in our private section. Mortimer wants to reintroduce humans into our cuisine. Since eating people is a crime we punish by death, he's going to do it in secret. After everyone has eaten it, he'll tell them. With no real way to punish everyone, in Mortimer's mind anyway, their minds will be open to the idea of eating people as a delicacy."

"Wouldn't they punish Mortimer for the deception?"

"They might. But to him the legacy of returning to the old ways is worth his own life. I don't think he expects it, though. I don't, either. Nothing is more important to the White Glove Society than being on the cutting edge of New Vegas cuisine. Mortimer's idea will appeal to that need. He just has to get them over the taboo."

"Where are they keeping Ted, Chauncey?"

"I don't know exactly. I wasn't in on it. I think some of them have stopped trusting me. But you can bet they're keeping him near the Gourmand. Our chef, Philippe, has an obsession with fresh ingredients. It'd be back in the members only section, so you'll have to be careful. Don't be seen, and more importantly, don't let them see Ted out in the open. It's guarded both at the lobby entrance and in the access tunnels leading from the main restaurant."

"How do I get in?"

"I... could sponsor you as an honorary member. The White Gloves are always looking for members who can elevate their status. You'd certainly fit the bill with everything you've done around the Strip. Talk to Marjorie. If she needs convincing, tell her you have my recommendation. Otherwise, you'll have to find some way to get inside quietly. It won't be easy. And it'll be harder still to get him out."

"Any suggestions on how to get Ted out, Chauncey?"

"Hmm... Well, they'll all be sampling Pre-War wines before the meal. Maybe it's as simple as drugging them. Although... that wouldn't stop any future kidnappings. You'd have to expose Mortimer. But he's going to confess anyway... What if... What if his revelation were a lie? What if no one had eaten human flesh but him? If you could somehow replace Philippe in the kitchen and serve a convincing substitute, instead... You could walk Ted right through the middle of that room after Mortimer speaks, and then he'd have some explaining to do. Philippe has been trying to approximate the taste of human flesh for years. He must have a recipe somewhere."

"Okay. Thank you for the information, Chauncey. I know you risked your life for this, so... Thank you." She stood up and gave him a small peck on the cheek.

"Uh, thanks. Let's plan on meeting again as soon as... Wait, did you hear something? Were you followed?"

The door burst open, a man with a silenced .22 pistol standing there, aimed at Chauncey.

"No!" the Courier cried, shoving him out of the way. She jumped for the assassin and nailed him in the head with a kick, sending him tumbling to the ground and his gun clattering away across the tiles of the steam room. With a heavy stomp to his face, he was dead. She ran to check on Chauncey.

"Chauncey! Are you okay?"

The man got up from the floor, rubbing his back. "Yeah. You just saved my life. You really do live up to the stories about you, Courier. Looks like I owe you one."

The Courier blushed, and not because of her nudity, which was quite far from her mind at the moment. "Why don't you stick with me, Chauncey? Mortimer might send another assassin after you. I can keep you safe."

"Sure. I should take you to Marjorie. See about that membership."

The Courier blushed again, folding her hands behind her back and rubbing the floor with her toe. "Um... There's one thing you can do to repay me." She said bashfully.

"Anything, Courier."

"Can you help me get dressed, Chauncey?"

The man faltered. "Shit... I'm in for the ride of my life helping you, aren't I?"

The Courier giggled. "You bet!"

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Okay, this was weird. Deputy Beagle had risked his life to save her. Simon saved her from a bomber and did something she wouldn't have been able to do. Sodom took a bullet for her. And now Chauncey risked his life to get her information that could save many lives to come. Did she have some sort of... thing... for nice guys?

They found Marjorie at the front desk of the Gourmand. "Ah, Chauncey. Pleasure to see you." she greeted.

"Yeah, hi. This is the Courier. Yes, _the_ Courier. I'm officially sponsoring her as a new member of the White Glove Society."

"Yes! May I please join?" the Courier added.

"Why, yes, of course. The White Glove Society is the most exclusive club in all of New Vegas. Perhaps the entire world. It's only natural that you'd need a sponsor from within the club who can vouch for your good name. Originally, we didn't allow anyone else in, you see. Founding members only. We thought exclusivity would make us the envy of everyone who's anyone. And it has. But then, I had the idea to allow honorary members. Lower in status, naturally, but it just makes people want to be us even more. And the right people could certainly do wonders for our image. Celebrities, philanthropists. We want only the very best. And you most certainly fit the bill. Given your deeds on the Strip alone, I can safely say that you would be a prized addition to our honorary ranks." She stepped over to a nearby cabinet and removed a white garment, a mask, and a key, handing the bundle to the Courier. "You have my full support, and you are welcome to join us at our nightly banquets in our special section of the Gourmand. I hope to see you there."

"Thank you, Marjorie, ma'am. I'm honored." The Courier told her, a light pink blush on her cheeks.

"Wear your mask and attire with pride, now. Ta-ta."

She turned to Chauncey. " I need to get changed into these. Can you help me, Chauncey?"

The man sighed. "I suppose. Damn, I'm gonna need a cold shower after all this."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

They made their way to the Members Only section, then the kitchen. It was dark, so the Courier was going to turn on her Pimp-Boy light, but Chauncey advised against it. They needed stealth on their side.

In the kitchen they found Philippe preparing the meal for the upcoming banquet.

"Why are you standing still? Do you think the world waits for you while you stand there drooling? Get back out there and get to work!"

"Um... I think you have me confused with someone else..." the Courier said softly.

"Oh really? So despite your filthy face and your vacant expression and your complete lack of human dignity, you're telling me you're not a server?"

"Uh... I'm a new honorary member of the White Glove Society."

"Well what do you want? I'm very busy here."

Arcade's psychology books, don't fail her, now! "Hm... Your predisposition toward anger suggests unresolved issues in your past..."

"What kind of harebrained fucking psychobabble bullshit is that? I yell at people because I _like_ yelling at people, and because they fucking deserve it. Not because Mumsy and Daddy-kins didn't hug me enough."

So far so good. Okay, what was that term? Something about... Proj… Project... Oh! "Hm... You may be projecting. Tell me more about your parents."

"Oh. I see how it is. You think because my father walked out on us when I was five, now I have to yell at people. Or because my mother was a deranged chem fiend who regularly brought strange men home, who told me to call them uncle. Or because my sisters would lock me in a shipping crate when they didn't want me around... and my brother..." His face softened. "God, I had forgotten about that. How could they do that to me? I... I can't stay here. I need to be alone."

"What about the banquet?"

"Forget about the fucking banquet! You know what? You can do it. You be the star chef. Take my recipes. It won't fill the hole, though. Just remember that. You'll always feel empty."

He reached over to the counter and handed her a stack of recipes before walking off. The Courier looked them over.

"Hmmm... Neiila might like to see these." The Courier smiled, scanning each one into her Pimp-Boy. It seemed there was one for a brahmin steak delicacy called brahmin wellington, one for a palatable mole rat jerky made with wonderglue, and even a recipe for a meat pie meant to mimic the taste of human flesh. Looks like she'd need to prepare that one. Philippe had also given her the key to the freezer.

"C'mon, let's go free Ted."

"Of course, Courier."

They made their way to the freezer, unlocking it to find a young man in a white shirt and straw cowboy hat.

"Ah! Please, don't hurt me!" he pleaded.

"It's okay, we're here to get you out of here." The Courier soothed.

"My dad sent you?" he asked.

"Yes. I'm the Courier. This is Chauncey." She gestured to the man.

"Wait, _the_ Courier? I've heard of you! I'm a big fan of yours! Do you know who did this to me? They hit me over the head before I got a look at them."

"There's no time right now. I'll explain later."

"Sure. Thanks so much!"

They made their way back out into the kitchen, the Courier glancing over the recipes.

"You going to cook the dinner?" Chauncey asked.

"Yes. Think you can help me?"

"Of course. Just tell me what to do."

"I'll help, too." Ted Gunderson offered.

Within an hour, they had a whole batch of imitation human flesh pies ready. The Courier stepped over to the intercom to call the waiter when the time was nearing.

"How may I assist?" the waiter asked through the intercom.

"It's time to serve the meal." The Courier responded.

"At once."

The Courier, Ted, and Chauncey went to hide in the freezer. The waiter came in and collected the meals, so the three followed him down the hall, up a flight of stairs, and out into the members only section. They hid behind the bar as Mortimer was ready to give his speech.

"I know I'm not the scheduled speaker, but I have a few words, if I may." Mortimer began. "There was a time not so long ago when we were bound together not as members, but as a family. As a clan. And when Mr. House came to us with his proposal, we accepted, knowing we stood to gain much. Little did we know how much we'd lose in the process. As a society, we've endeavored to sample the finest food and drink the world has to offer. But we are living a lie. There is a meat sweeter than the most cornfed livestock. Most of you have tasted it. All of you have coveted it. Among us, it is a crime to discuss a return to the old ways that unified our people. Tonight, that all changes. The taboo ends." Marjorie was about to speak up, but Mortimer interrupted her. "Let me finish, Marjorie. You don't know it yet, but you are all now guilty of a greater crime. One that ordinarily bears the harshest of punishments. Surely that you are all guilty warrants not only universal amnesty but also a renewed discussion. For our society to be truly elite, we must dine on the most delicious, the most exclusive food known to us. And tonight, for the first time as a society, you are sampling that very dish. The meat we are forbidden to taste, the way it was meant to be eaten! Fellow members of the White Glove Society... bon appetit!"

The Courier came out from behind the bar, Ted and Chauncey in tow, and ran up to tap Mortimer on the back. He turned around, and his eyes widened.

"What the... Who is this trespasser?"

"Bad news, Mortimer!" she stated loud enough for the whole room to hear. "No one's eating the boy you kidnapped tonight!"

"What are you...? Why is he there? Who are we eating right now?"

The Courier smiled. "Sorry, Mortimer. Secret recipe. It isn't human, though, I can tell you that."

"No! These are lies! I never kidnapped anyone! And even if I did, there's no harm done. He's alive, after all!"

"Too late, Mortimer." Chauncey stepped in. "You already said too much." He turned to the crowd. "You all heard his confession! The punishment for cannibalism is death!"

"You! Chauncey? Didn't I hire that assassin to kill yo-"

He was interrupted when the man slugged him in the jaw. Mortimer spat out a tooth as he propped himself up on the floor on his elbows.

"You're all hypocrites!" he shouted. "How can you claim to be connoisseurs yet deny yourselves the greatest of all meats? I am ashamed to have once called everyone here family! But this isn't ov-"

He was silenced by another slug from Chauncey. "Guards! Take him away!" he announced.

Two White Gloves ran up and picked Mortimer up, escorting him away.

"Oh... Oh my! How unfortunate!" Marjorie gasped, getting up from the table and walking up to the three of them. "And in front of all these people, too. He always was a bit of a pill, Mortimer. He was so pouty when I decided to ban eating people, and now this. I should've paid more attention to the warning signs. Can you imagine what people would've said? Why, it would've been a complete scandal if it weren't for you."

"It was my pleasure, ma'am." The Courier shook her hand.

Marjorie turned to Ted Gunderson. "And I'm terribly sorry this had to happen to you, young man. I do hope you'll forgive us."

"Hey, it's no trouble. I'll just be happy to see my dad again."

"And you, Chauncey. You helped too, I'm sure. How would you like to replace Mortimer as our maitre d'?"

"I'd be honored, Marjorie." The man bowed.

"C'mon, Ted. I need to get you back to your father." She leaned up and kissed Chauncey on the cheek again. "Bye, Chauncey. Thanks for all the help."

"Hey, it was an honor to help a hero like you."

The Courier blushed.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Heck Gunderson stood up from the bar as he saw the Courier running up with Ted.

"Oh my God! Ted! Are you all right?" he exclaimed, running over to hug the boy.

"It's okay, dad. I'm fine." His son assured him.

Heck turned to the Courier. "You got me my boy back. I got no words."

She shook his hand. "It was no trouble, Mr. Gunderson, sir."

"Now... I hope you didn't do no harm to whoever's responsible for this. I wanna skin their hides myself."

"It was Mortimer, one of the White Gloves, who had Ted taken. He's a cannibal."

"Well, that does it! None of them maniacs will ever do business with Heck Gunderson as long as they live! Hell, I'll put me together a damn blockade. Hit 'em where it hurts! They control the food? Well, there ain't gonna be no food. Not for anybody in this whole damn town! It's a goddamn monument to inhumanity. Let 'em starve! Biggest favor anyone's ever done this hellhole."

"Mr. Gunderson! Listen to yourself! You can't make everyone in the city suffer! It was only a single person who kidnapped Ted, and he's already been arrested for it!"

"You're... You're right. I'm sorry, little lady. I guess I just lost my cool for a moment there. They're already hell-bent on depravity here. All I'd be doing is helping them along. All right. Well, I promised you I'd make it worth your while, so here you are. Try not to lose it all at the same casino." He was about to hand her a bag of caps, but she shook her head.

"No. You can do something else to repay me. Keep pressing the White Gloves to do business with you. Tell them I recommend them to. Especially talk to the one named Chauncey. That's all I ask."

"Of course. You done right by me. I appreciate it."

"Goodbye, Mr. Gunderson. Goodbye, Ted."

"Wait. I never got your name." Heck shouted as she walked off.

"Dad, that was the Courier." Ted informed him with a smile.

The man's jaw dropped.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Hey, Neiila, this is good. What is this?" Cass asked as she dug into the meat pie.

The alien giggled. "Ask the Courier! She brought me the recipe!"

"What is this then, Courier?" Veronica asked.

"Oh, nothing special. Just human flesh pie."

Everyone paused.

"I'm kidding! It's mostly pig rat meat."

Everyone sighed in relief.

"Where's Rocket?" Raul asked.

"Staying at the Ultra-Luxe. She won a free room after winning big there." The Courier explained. "Say, anyone want some music while we eat?"

"Why not?" Arcade said.

The Courier started tuning her Pimp-Boy, looking for the Mojave Music Radio signal, but found something else instead.

"Has your life taken a turn? Do troubles beset you? Has fortune left you behind? If so, the Sierra Madre casino, in all its glory, is inviting you to begin again." A sensual female voice said over the radio. "Come to a place where wealth, excitement and intrigue await around every corner. Stroll along the winding streets of our beautiful resort, make new friends, or rekindle old flames. Let your eyes take in the luxurious expanse of the open desert under clear star-lit skies. Gaze straight on into the sunset from our villa rooftops. Countless diversions await. Gamble in our casino, take in the theater, or stay in one of our exclusive executive suites that will shelter you and cater to your every whim. So if life's worries have weighed you down, if you need an escape from your troubles, or if you just need an opportunity to begin again, join us, let go, and leave the world behind at the Sierra Madre grand opening this November... We'll be waiting."

"Okay...?" Boone queried.

"Skynet, what day is it?" the Courier asked the robobrain.

"November first, 2281." He answered.

"Hm... I should investigate this broadcast. Can you tell me where it's coming from?"

"Of course." Skynet plugged into her Pimp-Boy and began tracing the signal. "Broadcast appears to originate from an abandoned bunker just southeast of Camp Forlorn Hope."

"Hm... Tomorrow morning, I'm going out to investigate."

"Alone?" Boone asked.

"Alone."

"That's not safe, pumpkin. You should take one of us with you."

"No. I'm going alone this time. Don't worry. I'll be fine."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

It seemed the abandoned bunker's entrance was a drainage grate. She tucked the motorcycle away in a shrub where it wouldn't be seen, and opened the grate to climb down the ladder. The smell of death hit her. She looked to see a corpse in a strange jumpsuit lying on the other side of the room, by a hole in the floor with stairs leading down. She ventured down the stairs and saw some graffiti painted above the entryway, which said 'Sierra Madre' with an arrow pointing down.

She ventured further down the hall and eventually came to a large room with bunk beds on either wall, a single radio sitting on a table. She took one step forward into the room and a white flash flickered. When her vision returned, red gasses were being pumped into the room. Already she could feel herself getting drowsy. She covered her mouth with her forearm and tried to run, but tripped on a grate in the floor. She struggled to keep her eyes open as her eyelids grew heavy. Was this the end for her? What would happen?

**XXXXXXXXXX**

_Little did the Courier know, she was about to be taken to an extremely dangerous area of the Mojave Wasteland, a one-way journey until her business at her destination was finished. She'd encounter new traps, enemies, and companions whose lives would be tied to hers. She'd be fighting the environment as well, a toxic city that erodes life over time. The Sierra Madre Grand Opening awaited her... and had been for over two hundred years._


	17. Chapter 16: Assemble the Team part 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Fallout. Fallout belongs to Bethesda, who purchased the rights from Black Isle.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Fallout:** New Vegas

Unknown Origins

By _Cyberweasel89_

**Chapter 16:** Assemble the Team – Dog and God

**XXXXXXXXXX**

_You've heard of the Sierra Madre Casino. We all have. The legend. The curses._

_Foolishness about it lying in the middle of a City of the Dead, buried beneath a blood-red cloud. A bright, shining monument, luring treasure hunters to their doom._

_The world's most famous stars and entertainers were invited to its Grand Opening. An invitation was a sign of... exclusiveness._

_The opening was supposed to symbolize a road to a brighter future, not just for the world... but for all who came to its doors. A chance for anyone to begin again._

_Except... The Sierra Madre never opened. The war froze it in time, like a big flashbulb going off. The Grand Opening... One big ending of humanity._

_It's still out there, in the Wastes. Preserved. Just waiting for someone to... crack it open. But getting to it... That's not the hard part._

_It's letting go._

**XXXXXXXXXX**

She wasn't sure how long she was out. But she awoke in a strange, unknown location. The sky was red, the ground was lined with cobblestones, and she seemed to be lying in front of a dried up fountain with a hologram projected over it. It depicted an old man with a beard, dressed in a high-collared robe.

"Are you listening? Good. From now on, when I talk, listen, and follow my instructions." An echoing voice sounded from the hologram's projector. "Play stupid, play clever, make the mistake of saying 'no'? That collar on your neck'll go off and take your head with it."

She looked up at the hologram, still not fully awake. "Huh? H-How did I get here?"

"Hm-hm!" The voice chuckled. "Get here? You walked into one of my traps in the Mojave... Following the Sierra Madre signal. Now, you're here, with that collar on your neck."

"Collar? What are you talking about?"

"It's like that Pip-Boy on your wrist, except filled with explosives. A little radio of the Old World. Just needed some tuning. Do what I say, and the collar won't go off... Refuse, try and run, disobey me? I'll kill you and find someone else. There's no escape from here until I let you go. The sooner you accept your situation, the better."

She felt at her neck, finding a metal collar clasped around it, like the ones the Weathers family wore in Cottonwood Cove. Her eye widened further. "Huh? Wh-Who are you?"

"Someone who followed the call of the Sierra Madre, just as you did. Now that I've found it's more than a story... I intend to take what's inside. Maybe that's why you came. Why you followed your Pip-Boy here... and straight into one of my traps. Now, this is your reward."

"How are you speaking to me?"

"Confused? Don't be. I'm commandeering the hologram technology of the Villa. Numbers, equations, circuits... All can be controlled, provided there's a connection, and the knowledge to use it. This Villa, the casino... A treasure trove of such devices."

"Wh-What do you want?"

"That structure you see beyond the fountain... the Sierra Madre Casino? You need to break inside. A... heist. Too many years in the making. But to get inside, avoid its traps... You'll need to gather the team. As I've found, one cannot do it alone."

She gasped. "You've caught others?"

"Around the Villa are three other collars like yours. Collar eight, twelve, and fourteen. Find all three and get them here, to the fountain. Then we'll talk more. And should you get any ideas about killing each other and taking the treasure of the Sierra Madre for yourself? A warning... All of your collars are linked. One of you dies... you all die. If that's what it takes to make you cooperate, so be it."

"Why... Why would you do that?"

"Because in some respects, breaking into the Sierra Madre is easier than breaking human instinct. Greed. The Villa is filled with corpses. Some, killed by the dangers here... some by me. Others... turned on each other. Once they realized the Sierra Madre could be theirs, they cared nothing for their freedom, their survival... or each other."

"Are they... Are they all dead?"

"The ones brought here only live on in what they've left behind. Their marks. Graffiti on the walls. And the victims they've killed. Some tried to help... Left supplies and ammunition for others who came. Their reward? They were tracked down, killed by others with baser instincts. Some of these murderers went as far as to leave traps behind them, turning markers for help into deathtraps for anyone following them. It killed some of them when they forgot where the traps lay... Or when they desperately needed the assistance they had cut others off from."

"How many of these victims did you bring here?"

"Too many. This place is dangerous... and its quarantine measures, its hazards... have claimed many. Failures upon failures. You think I wanted to place collars on you to ensure compliance? No. If robots could've done this, I would have sent them. The Sierra Madre is a complicated lock. Cracking it open requires human hands."

She felt a small breeze, causing her to look down at herself. "Eeek! Why am I naked?" she shrieked, thrusting her arms over herself in a desperate attempt to protect her modesty.

"The Sierra Madre has many... defenses. Means of screening guests for illicit or dangerous items. Your arrival here, weaponless, and... Hm-hm!" he chuckled. "Armorless... was not my intention. This Casino, this Villa... It takes anything with even a trace of radioactivity, traces of unknown substances, and returns it home... the bunker, in your case. The process is automated, and the casino itself has other, similar 'services'. I was unable to find a workaround, except to send others in as tools. Still... the Sierra Madre's security, in some respects, can help you if you are resourceful enough."

"Wh-What do you mean?"

"This place is well-preserved. Few who came here ever returned. All the treasures of the Old World lie scattered about, virtually untouched. Search, hunt. Craft what you can from what you find. The trash of the Pre-War era can keep you alive. Food, knives, more. Use them. Even the Villa's toxins, and the residue it leaves behind, can be shaped into tools and weapons. Gather it, as well. Just be wary of the Villa's... living... inhabitants."

"Inhabitants? There's people living here?"

"Yes... the inhabitants... avoid them if you can. They are difficult to kill. Whatever has created them... Bullets, explosions, energy, it can make them inert for a time, then they seem to crawl back up, restored. Perhaps it's the Cloud. Perhaps something in their physiology."

"The Cloud? What's that?"

"The Cloud is what blankets the sky here... You may smell it in the air. Copper, and sulfur. Burns the lungs and seeps into the skin. As for its origins... I'm not certain. Pre-War industrial pollutants... something in the Sierra Madre structure... It is unique across the wasteland... and deadly. It has kept this place preserved since the Great War."

The Courier swallowed hard. "Will... Will exposure kill me?"

"The air here is lethal only if you enter concentrated pockets of the Cloud. Too long inside one, you'll die... So careful where you step. I've seen some survive concentrations of the Cloud for short periods of time if healthy enough. Others were too weak. Rebreathers, chemical suits, there is no protection against it. It decays all it touches. I've found fighting it useless. Only ghouls and super mutants seem to be immune to it."

"I-Is there any place safe to rest?"

"Anywhere sheltered from the Cloud... inside buildings, tunnels. Any place not exposed to the outside air. Anything the Cloud has touched has preserved it one way or another. But, only the holograms in the Villa truly remain."

"What holograms are you talking about?"

"Ghosts... they fill the Villa. More in the casino... Much more. They carry out the functions the dead once did. They cannot be harmed... They only perform the same rote tasks until their power dies. They are of no consequence... Except, for the security holograms. The ones with the silhouettes of the armored Sierra Madre guards."

"H-How are they different?"

"Most holograms perform specific functions. The security holograms, ever since the bombs fell, now perform their function. They will kill anyone they detect. They are immune to guns, weapons, EMPs... even energy weapons. Still, they have limitations. Their design limits their field of view, enough to avoid detection. Each has an emitter. Destroy or disable it, and they cease to be a threat. Still... at least they still work as intended. Other technology here is more of a threat to you. Notably, the Villa's radios and speakers."

"What? R-Radios and speakers are a th-threat? How?"

"Yes, music was intended to be broadcast all over the Villa. Over time, however, the radio signal has decayed and emits a different frequency. Speakers and radios interfere with the bomb collar frequency and can trigger the detonators... prematurely. Hm. It is an unfortunate side effect, one I did not anticipate. I was unable to calibrate the collars to block the signals. So... you'll have to make do."

"Radios and speakers can set off my collar?" Her eye widened.

"Yes. But not immediately. You'll hear a beep from your collar's detonator. When you do, step back, scan the area, and find the signal source. There are damaged speakers and shielded ones... The damaged ones you can destroy at range. Gun blasts, energy weapons, even spears thrown with great force. But don't get close! You can't switch them off like a radio. The damaged speakers are sparking. Ha... Hard to miss. The shielded ones you can't destroy at all. They are resistant to vandalism. Punching, hitting, or even shooting them won't destroy them. You'll need to avoid them or switch them off via a terminal. I'll leave the method up to you."

"So... What's inside the Sierra Madre?"

"That is for me to know. You get that far... You'll see for yourself."

"Um... Okay... Who are these people I'm gathering?"

"One is a trusted ally... Obedient, collar or no, although the collar helps. The other two... Well, we'll have to see what the traps caught."

"How am I supposed to find them?"

"Your piece of RobCo trash will help you, I've ensured it. It can latch onto the signal of the collars, and tune into their frequencies. The bomb collars come with radios embedded in them. You can eavesdrop easily. It was part of their design... to listen in. They can even screen out white noise from the environment to allow greater monitoring."

"Any suggestions for who I should get first?"

"Yes... Collar Eight, the FEV reject, the super mutant. He's docile, predictable, and provided he's not starving, should be easy to command. I lost contact with him some time ago... Probably after he dragged you here from the trap. Find him. He'll follow you. Collar or no."

"What's FEV?"

"A long story... FEV, a virus with an even longer story... It gave birth to the docile one, turned him into a super mutant long ago."

"Well, where can I find him?"

"Travel West, toward the Villa police station. Follow the radio frequency, and the alarms. Although... There's a great deal of interference at the source. Perhaps that's why I lost contact with him. No matter. Aside from Collar Eight, there should be weapons, armor at the police station. Go West, avoid the Villa inhabitants, bring the mutant back."

"So... Just find the three of them and bring them back here? Fine... I'll do as you ask..."

"Good. I've downloaded the instructions and markers on your Pip-Boy, in case you forget. The instructions are in an audio log, in case you can't read. If you forget why you're here, let my voice remind you. And yes, I have access to that device on your wrist. Get the other three here. After that, I'll have more instructions for you. Do this, I'll let you go. I'll let all of you go. If necessary, I will guide you through the Villa broadcast systems. If you get lost, return here, and I'll direct you."

The image of the man's face receded into the fountain, replaced with a hologram of a woman in a dress. Whimpering, she looked around, arms still shielding her modesty despite no one being around. She felt like she could cry... Alone, in a strange, dangerous place, and wearing nothing but an explosive collar.

She heard a noise. It sounded like a tin can being kicked.

"Hello?" she called out.

She followed the noise, arms out in front of her. Without her glasses, she was as blind as a blind deathclaw. Every minute or so the sound would repeat, until she found her way through some arches to an alcove in the side of a building. Two hands took hers, warm and gentle, and held them out, placing a bundle of cloth in her arms. She looked up at the blurred figure, only to now see clear as day as glasses were carefully placed over her eyes. She was staring up at a man in a trench coat and fedora.

"You? Wh-Who-"

Before she could finish, he vanished with a shimmer of light, as if with a stealth boy. She felt the air in front of her. He was gone. It seemed the bundle he had given her was some sort of strange white jumpsuit with a red X on the back, complete with a pair of brown work boots. She slipped into the jumpsuit, finding she had to roll up the sleeves and legs to fit her short limbs, and was horrified when it wouldn't zip past her breasts.

"Stupid boobs!" she cursed. The boots were a perfect fit for her, luckily.

There was something else in the bundle of what he gave her, though. It looked like a fanny pack. It seemed big enough to carry a few things, like caps or ammunition, if she used anything like that. There was already something in it. It looked like a roll of boxing tape, a blue hair ribbon, and a few strips of gauze. She wrapped the gauze around her empty eye socket, and wrapped her hands with the boxing tape. She easily tied her hair with the ribbon.

Something caught her eye by a nearby pillar, and she looked to see some kind of strange rifle propped up next to a box of fresh microfusion cells. It came with a strap to affix it to her back, which she did after loading the energy weapon ammunition into it. Rifle on her back, fully (or mostly) dressed, and with a renewed resolve, she set out west, to the Villa police station.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

As she traveled down the road, she came to an unusual device, lit up with a pale blue light. It depicted lines of tiny holographic items on a screen. The dispensing tray let her to believe it was a vending machine of some sort, as did the slot on the side for inserting what she could only guess was pre-war currency. Not like she had any.

The police station was easy to find. There were signs everywhere with directions. It was when she ran into a strange person in a hazmat suit that she paused. Glowing green eyes gazed at her, an odd breathing sound emanating from it.

"Hello?" she called to him.

Without warning, the person lunged at her, making some sort of chittering sound. He was wielding some sort of bear trap on his hand. She gave him a solid left-right hook then a knee to the stomach, felling him to the ground, but... he got back up with what sounded like a ghostly intake of air.

"Watch out for the Villa inhabitants." The old man's voice spoke from her Pimp-Boy. "They're... difficult to kill unless you chop them to pieces. Blow them up or disintegrate them if you can."

Her eyes scanned the area, seeing a small fountain against a wall. Lying in front of it was a skeleton, its ribs shattered by some sort of spear stabbing into the ground. The Courier dove for it, grabbing it and stabbing it at the person in the hazmat suit. The blade pierced into his chest, and with a wrench and swing, sliced through his shoulder, severing his arm. He fell to the ground, some sort of yellow gunk falling out from within the suit.

The Courier breathed a sigh of relief. She took a look at the odd spear. It looked like it was made using duct tape and three rusted knives tied to a pole. But... these weren't like the chef knives she was used to. They were made entirely of one material, even the handle, and it didn't seem like true metal. It almost felt like some kind of... ceramic alloy. She tapped her finger on the edge of one of the triumvirate of knives on the end of the spear, recoiling back when she pricked her finger. These things were sharp!

If these... ghostly people... needed to be chopped apart, this knife-improvised spear would probably come in handy. With her new weapon in hand, she continued toward the police station.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

She found a concentrated pocket of the Cloud on her way to the police station. She tried holding her breath as she ran through it, but came out coughing, wheezing, and sweating all the same. Looked like the old man was right. No use holding your breath. It seeped into your skin. Luckily her new spear made a good walking staff when it wasn't being used to chop up ghost people.

She found some unusual graffiti scratched into the walls, too. 'THE CASINO IS THE OLD MAN'S COLLAR', 'FATHER TIME CAN BE BEATEN', but most peculiar of all was just outside the door to the police station.

"Find God in the simplest of beasts?" the Courier read aloud as she came to it. Much like the other two she came across, some of the letters were backwards.

Who's God? As in... when people say 'thank God', or 'oh my God'? Shrugging, she opened the door and stepped into the police station.

"Speakers and radios interfere with the bomb collar frequency and can trigger the detonators... prematurely." She heard the old man on her Pimp-Boy as she stepped through the door. When she walked forward, her collar began beeping. A beeping that was getting steadily faster. She stepped back and the beeping stopped. It seemed there were two ham radios turned on in the room. If she was fast enough, she could turn them off. And she'd always been told she was a fast runner. With a dash, she turned the knob on the first one, then ran to the second and twisted the dial to the off position. The beeping stopped, but as she neared the cage, her collar started up again. She looked around, not spotting one. With a run to the side of the cage, she spotted another radio under the desk, which she quickly turned off, sighing with relief when the beeping once again ceased.

There seemed to be a super mutant locked inside the prison cell. Specifically, a nightkin.

"Hello?" she called to him. He ignored her, merely mumbling to himself.

"Dog is sorry, sorry, sorry."

"Hello?" the Courier called again.

"He's watching. Waiting for you to let me go. Wants me back in the cage, downstairs."

She sighed. She was going nowhere fast. She stepped over to a terminal in front of the cell. It appeared to have three entries.

"Sinclair Visit. Sinclair did his rounds again today. Glad he left his ghostly entourage at the casino. Those walking lightshows make me wonder why he's even got us on staff when they could blast us in a second." Hm. The holograms, maybe? "Otherwise, Sinclair runs a tight ship, good to see in these days and times. Don't know how smart he is trying to make a resort to escape everything in the outside world, but rich guys can make it happen, even ones that've been hit hard like Sinclair has." Hm... A man named Sinclair built the Sierra Madre? A rich man who was down on his luck, it seemed...

"Holding Cell. Nothing much to report. Pretty quiet tonight, even from Puesta del Sol. Imagine Morris up in the casino probably has more than enough with the guests coming in tonight, poor bastard. Set up the radios so I can listen in on the Gala Event when it fires up, and left one out for the prisoners. If Sinclair doesn't want to be too strict with the guests tonight, I may just toss the key in the holding cage with anyone we pick up and let them unlock the door when they sleep it off." That explained all the radios. But where was the key, then?

"Communications. Set up the radio room downstairs to broadcast through the speakers. Don't want to miss tonight's performance. The receiver down there is stronger than the desk radios we have up here. Stashed some supplies from the evidence room down there to celebrate once my shift is over. Way I figure it, most of the guards'll be too busy to check up on me." Hm... That meant the speakers were on in the basement of the police station, but it might just contain a cache of supplies.

She stepped into the nearby hallway and found a bathroom with a brown suitcase in it. On the wall was a white handprint. In it she found stimpaks, scotch, some .357 magnum rounds, a super stimpak, and one of the strange knives that was on the end of her spear. Behind the door was a first aid kid with a few more stimpaks. She'd be needing these in case one of the ghost people got her.

The next room down the hall seemed to be an armory of some sort. There was another computer terminal, which she checked.

"Inventory. Got the weapons and mines in today, along with the shotguns and the ammo, enough to defend the Villa if trouble breaks out. Sinclair's taking the world situation seriously, even all the way out here... Maybe more so because we're out here. Hate to think if someone got their hands on half the stuff we have stored here. Enough military ordinance here to turn the Villa into a mine field." Hm... If that much was stored here, it wasn't anymore. The place looked looted.

"Dispenser Report. Dispensers are up and running. Unlike most everything else, we've had few problems with them. I heard they'd been part of some World's Fair exhibit Sinclair had seen, so he contacted the researchers about the dispensers to see if he could use them here. Turns out, dispensers do more than supply convenience items. If there's an emergency or the threat of communist attack, codes can unlock ammo and repair kits for the dispensers. Stored back-ups of the codes in the contraband room, just in case." Hm. She'd have to check that room.

The Courier searched through the lockers, finding only armor that didn't fit her and a .357 revolver that seemed to be standard of the Sierra Madre police force. It'd come in handy for destroying speakers, so she grabbed a holster belt from another locker and fixed it to her waist, along with a whole box of .357 magnum rounds in her waist satchel.

Back in the main room, she found the door to the contraband room locked, but the terminal nearby might be connected to the door's mechanism. There were two entries on it that she read first.

"Prohibited Items. Sinclair's prohibition list is going to be difficult to enforce and told him so. He claims we're getting an automated system that would confiscate items even the slightest bit radioactive or foreign and ship them back to the visitor's source address. Asked about items already in the Villa, didn't mention the construction crew, but he dismissed it. Of course, no sooner than Sinclair gives his prohibition speech, his pal swings by the same hour, asking how 'hardnosed' we were going to be. Told me he couldn't guarantee he could keep me supplied if I didn't treat his 'friends' with the same respect. Prick." Hm... It looked like most of the supplies she'd find here were left here Pre-War, by the people that worked here.

"Security System Installation. Sinclair installed a new security system for visitors coming into and out of the Villa. He doesn't seem to care too much about what they do when they're inside, only that we confiscate any personal items that could be dangerous or foreign, and make sure we know who enters and who leaves. Asked him about watching the construction crews. He said that was a 'Villa matter'. Great, that means the prick runs the show. As long as there were no more accidents among the crews, that's what he cared about. Barely tucked my flask under the desk before he showed up. He gets that disapproving look when he sees the hard stuff." Sure enough, there was a flask under the desk. She popped the cap on it and gave it a whiff. Whiskey. No use to her.

It seemed the computer had an option to unlock the contraband door, which she used, hearing a click from the door in response. Inside, she found two jars of Buffout, two super stimpaks, three syringes of Med-X, one tin of Mentats, and a vending machine code for .357 magnum rounds, which she loaded into her Pimp-Boy. That reminded her, she saw another holotape on the desk near the bathrooms. She ran back to find it was the vending machine code for Steady, and there was even one for .308 rounds on the floor in the bathroom. She'd have to keep an eye out for these holotapes.

The kitchen at first proved fruitless, but she found some food. Didn't have much space to carry it, so she used one of the strange knives from the counter to cut open the can of pork and beans, cook it on a nearby electric hot plate, and enjoy a small lunch. At least, she thought it was around lunchtime. Her Pimp-Boy said it was, but the blood-red sky never changed here.

She found a box of Abraxo cleaner, as well as a working sink, and that gave her an idea. Grabbing a rag, she set to work scrubbing, and soon had the knives on the end of her spear clean of rust, now shiny and new. Feeling pleased with herself, she set off down the final unexplored hallway connected to the main room of the police station.

She immediately heard her collar beeping. Rounding the corner, she found a radio sitting on a desk, which she switched off. At the end of the hallway she found a locked cell door with a skeleton reaching its arm out, trying to grab two bottles of clean water just out of reach. Ugh. How could anyone be so cruel as to do that to someone? Still, the water was clean, so she guzzled one and stuffed the other into her waist satchel. On top of some filing cabinets was the vending machine code for a full tool kit, which she scanned into her Pimp-Boy. Now all that was left was the basement.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Knew you would come. Below the cage... down to where I am. Maybe you saw the letters I scratched on the Villa walls. A little farther. Follow my voice... that's it. The one in the cage? Dog. I had to lock him up. He keeps... disobeying me."

A voice greeted her the moment she began her trek to the basement. She could've sworn she heard the sound of a holotape being loaded into a player before the voice began speaking, so maybe it was a recording.

The moment she stepped into the first room she came upon, she heard her collar beeping. Looking around, she saw nothing. No radio or collar to speak of, just a terminal on a nearby table. Maybe it was behind the crates? The Courier ran over to check, but found nothing. Her collar was beeping faster, so she ran to the opposite side of the room she started at, breathing a sigh of relief when it stopped.

The next room yielded little of interest, aside from a jar of Buffout in the attached utility closet. She moved on.

The next room didn't have anything noteworthy, but her collar began beeping in the room after that. The Courier saw a ham radio on the table across the room, which she ran turned and turned the dial to the off position.

"That's me, there, on the table. The disk. My voice." The voice from earlier began speaking over an intercom again. Or, possibly, loading from a recorded holotape. "Can't take any chances, though... You may be some victim who simply stumbled down here. If so, can't let you let Dog out... No, not net... If you're who I think you are, you came to fetch Dog, use him to drag others here. Now I'll use you... and that Pip-Boy you're wearing. You're smart. Clever. The key to Dog's cage is simple. Take my voice to the cage above. Let me speak to the beast inside. Then you and I... _we_ can talk."

If this was a recording, how did he know she had a Pip-Boy? She looked to see a holotape sitting on the table next to the ham radio, which she grabbed and began making her way back upstairs.

She returned to the room with the terminal, relieved to see her collar wasn't beeping. Since the ham radio on the other side of the wall was turned off, she checked the terminal from earlier.

"Vending Machine Installation. Oversaw the streetside Vending Machines installation, all working, mostly because the casino crew was running the show." Was the casino crew more reliable than the Villa crew? "Finally complained to the Chief about the machines. They feel like a "Company Store." We only get a few casino chips with the paycheck, so we can barely buy anything." Those vending machines use casino chips? She'd have to collect some. "Chief says he's not sure the chips were Sinclair's idea, only if we had any problems with the machines, let him know immediately."

"Search and Seizure. After another 'discussion' with the Puesta del Sol crew, told Chief it'd be difficult to enforce the prohibition list, let alone the searches. Chief had the Gala on his brain, said Sinclair put construction of the Villa more important than patting down the construction crews for liquor and chems as long as they didn't hurt anyone or each other. Got a little hot under the collar, Chief did too, told me to walk it off. This whole thing stinks. Chief's barely got time for me, now Sinclair's turning a blind eye to things in the Villa because his friend's running the show?"

"No More Parking Tickets. One good thing about this assignment... No more parking tickets. Sinclair's laid out the streets so narrow, cars can't even come into the Villa. Resources being what they are, he may not want folks to waste gas coming here. Cuts down on traffic noise, too. Chief says it's more than that, says Sinclair wanted the Villa to be 'reclusive.' Long as I don't have to worry about double-parking snobs or Chryslus gas-hogs clogging the Villa, I could care less. Wonder how he expects folks to get here, though. Seems extreme, even for privacy." Hm... How did the Courier herself get here?

Searching the room, she found a tin of Fixer on top of a stack of crates, which she reached with a stepladder. She pocketed it and continued on with the holotape in hand.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Back in front of the cell with the nightkin inside it, the Courier slid the holotape into her Pimp-Boy and heard the voice again.

"Dog. Back in the cage." It commanded.

The nightkin stood up, turning around to face her.

"What have we here? You weren't who I was expecting. I'm disappointed. Still... even if you aren't my _intended_ guest, you take direction. Good. You can't have been an idiot to figure out how to release me from my cage... Or, perhaps you are, with that leash on your arm and the one around your neck. With our collars and manacles, why, we may as well be kin."

"Um... That name carved into your chest. Are you... Dog?"

The nightkin's brow lowered in anger. "The carving's a reminder, for mirrors and for Dog. Dog, who you heard coming in, howling and hungry, as always."

"What happened to your voice? You sound like the one from the tape..."

"I'm the voice of reason. I sleep sometimes... down in the basement, in the cage. Now that _I'm_ awake, _Dog_ goes back in the cage." He smirked. "Dog knows I'm here, but can't do anything about it. I'm his... conscience. Keep him tame, keep him from hurting us... doing foolish things."

"Who locked you in this cage?"

"Locked myself in. Could feel myself... letting go. Dog's howling getting louder. It happens when he's hungry and no one's around to tell him... no. I've been trapped in here for some time, then you come along and let me out. So... You opened my cage for a reason. Now, I want to know why."

"Uh... I'm looking for someone with a collar like mine. Um... Wh-Where is your collar?"

"It's close. Closer than I'd like... Dog's been into things, needs to think before he eats, chew before he swallows. He's... eager that way." She could hear the repressed anger in his voice. "Now the collar's a part of me. Inside. I can feel its electronic heartbeat, clicking and burning down below... like before. It was cold and heavy before going in the cage... now you're here, and it's pulling and kicking again, tugging like a leash. Interesting."

"Um... I-If that collar inside you is active, I didn't switch it on, I swear!" she defended.

"Really. Yet it led you here, to me. And now you're here, and it's burning a hole in my guts. Maybe its crying for its owner."

"Okay... um... H-How did you manage to, uh... eat one of those collars, if you don't mind me asking?"

"They... detach. When segmented, they look like nothing more than metallic radscorpions... and if they're attached to neck flesh, warm, red..." His brow tensed in anger again. "Dog doesn't care what's on the body he's crushing in his hands. He'll mangle it, twist it, make it fit until he's full. Dog can't help himself... hungry... greedy... And now the collar's inside, alive again. And we're trapped here until it goes cold."

"Why did you lock yourself in that cage, sir?"

"Sir... Heh. Aren't you a respectful little bunny. But no... Why did _I_ lock him in the cage. I locked him in because I could feel him... getting hungry again. There wasn't much time. If Dog roams, he gets into trouble... eats things he shouldn't... listens to others he shouldn't. So he's safer in here. _We're_ safer in here. I hoped if I locked him in here, the one he obeys would come for him. Instead, I get _you_."

"Um... I-If you locked him... you... in, what if you couldn't get out?"

"Oh, I have the key. Always did. Hid it on the chain behind my neck before Dog could come bursting out, eating everything he could. Wanted to make sure whoever came to fetch Dog spoke to me first, got within reach. Instead... I get you."

"Wait... So you... or Dog... doesn't know the key is on him?"

"Dog and I don't share... _everything_. What _I_ know, _he_ doesn't. What _he_ knows... what _little_ he knows... _I_ don't. For example, your arrival is a surprise. I wished that I could have remembered, I'm sure Dog knew. And when he's feeding, well... I sometimes have to find out about it later. Now all there is to do is wait for my _intended_ guest."

He kept referring to Dog, or himself, as if he were a different person. So that meant...

"Hang on... You have multiple personality disorder, don't you? Um... Did some sort of trauma cause it?"

"Trauma... yes. In a manner of speaking. Do you see these wounds of his, covering his skin... The bear trap on his arm? He placed his own hand in it. The name he carved in his chest? To remind him of who he is, he inflicts pain on himself to silence me, when all I try to do is... Grr, ah. He cuts, hurts, and tries to murder me out of him. He won't succeed. Just makes me angrier. Dog is the beast. We simply change cages... Like the ones here."

"So... Um... What do I call you?"

"Simple enough. As I said, I just need to look at my chest in a mirror."

"So... God?"

"How very astute of you. Yes, Dog backwards is God."

"Okay... Mr. God, sir... If you weren't expecting me, who were you waiting for?"

"Don't play stupid. I already have to mind one child. You _must_ have figured it out by now. The Old Man obsessed with the Sierra Madre... riddled with greed. Hoped you might be him when I woke up. All you are is his hand. You're the same kind of greed. Followed the radio, the broadcast, and now you're here, all confused. Not for long. You'll figure it out."

"Huh? Why do you say I'm the same as the man who brought me here?"

"You're not him anymore than _I'm_ Dog. But that collar around your neck... You're an extension of the Old Man's grasp. Clumsy, perhaps, but a tool, yes. And once you get acclimated to the Sierra Madre... then you'll feel the same overpowering hunger the Old Man does. And then you'll _be_ him, not just his hand."

That was unsettling... but she trusted herself to keep to the right path. "What do you know about him? He refused to even tell me his name when I spoke to him..."

"Elijah. Human. Weak, like all of you are. Feeling age circling him like starved dogs, howling for blood. To me, he reeks of age and failure. And madness. To me, he is simply the 'Old Man'. To Dog, he is 'Master'. His name, meaningless. Running out of years, hopes and dreams running through his withered hands like sand from the Big Empty... and scorched by the sun."

Elijah? That sounded familiar... "Um... Scorched by the sun?"

"The Old Man... this 'Elijah'... tried to hold the sun in his hands. Arrogance, was cast down for it. Icarus's crime was to fly too high... Elijah... Elijah wanted to bring the sun down to him. Hnh! Arrogance."

That sounded familiar, too... "Well, why is he here?"

"Heard the call of the Sierra Madre, just like you did... exactly the same way. Finds out it's more than a store, comes to this shining poisonous grail, this jewel of the desert... Dog knows him more than I do. Dog's always nodding, always obeying him, because he's weak and greedy, and hungry for master's affection."

"How do you two switch?"

"There's two methods, really. When I get hungry, Dog takes control. When Dog devours enough to be satisfied, he goes back in the cage. Otherwise, if he hears my voice it triggers an immediate change. But if I hear the Old Man give him an order, Dog puts me back in the cage so he can please his master."

"Okay... Um... D-Do you know how I got to the Villa?"

"Of course I know. Even if I don't see it happen... Down in the cage, I hear echoes of the footfalls, the click of the collars. Every time I see one of you, I know exactly how you got here... You couldn't help yourselves, any more than Dog can help _himself_. You heard the voice, the promise, and then you walked right into one of the Old Man's traps. Then... Then Dog comes for you, drags you here."

"So... You're the one who brought me to the Villa, God?"

"Me? You think I want to haul bodies around the wastes like a Brahmin at the whip? No, Dog does it. When the old man says fetch, Dog fetches. You were in a man trap, and Dog made his rounds, and dragged you here. _When_, I don't know. But... it must have been... recent. Before the cage."

"Um... Why do you say that?"

"I don't remember you... that isn't surprising. What is... is that it was when Dog was out of his cage... free, hungry. He knows not to eat anything he catches in the traps... After _that_, however... So he dragged you here, you got spared. Dog must have fed _afte_r you arrived... Once he was fed, that allowed _me_ out of the cage, and put _him_ inside. Do you remember how long you were out?"

"I'm sorry... I don't remember... I only woke up when my Pimp-Boy turned back on."

"Must have already been in the cage... already had the collar in me. You're lucky Dog didn't devour you... otherwise, we'd be closer than we are now."

The Courier swallowed hard... She didn't like the sound of that. "Um... If you... uh, Dog... brought me here, do you know the way back?"

"The way back doesn't matter. Try to leave, try to disobey... and your collar ends the journey faster than you can say 'begin again.' You're clever. You'd be able to find a way back if you left the Villa. Dog can... _I_ can find the way back, if 'back' is where I even wanted to go. Until the Old Man lets you go, you're going nowhere. This beautiful paradise, with all its toxins and death... it's home."

The Courier shuffled her feet nervously. "Um... I need to get you out of there... You say the key is in there with you... and Dog?"

God chuckled a bit. "Yes, but Dog doesn't know that. We don't share everything. Sometimes it's a blessing. Sometimes... it causes difficulties. Now, I think it's a blessing. It keeps you on _that_ side of the cage. Now... _you_ go fetch. Find your master. Bring him here to so we can... talk."

"Um... I could just tell Dog he has the key."

"Yes... you could. And once he was out, all starving and hungry, what do you think he would do then? Be careful what cage you open, because he won't go back in it without a fight. He'll tear you apart. He won't care if it kills you both."

The Courier gave a small, knowing smile. "Uh... I-If he hears his voice, he'll do what Elijah says."

"Dog... obeys, yes. Why? Do you have some means of contacting the Old Man?"

"I can play his voice, yes. I have an audio log of him on my Pimp-Boy, same as yours."

God's confidence wavered. "You... don't play it! If you do, I'll find a way to get out of the cage, end you! I'll murder you, crush your arms and legs until-"

"Calm down. We need to trust each other. Please, work together with me and I won't do it."

"No, you wouldn't. If you did, you won't escape this place alive. I'd shatter every one of your limbs to splinters and leave you here. You think I'm afraid of your collar exploding, killing us? No, I'll leave you breathing, then keep walking until _my_ collar goes cold. I'll prop your broken body in view of the Sierra Madre so you can see what you came to steal... Forever out of reach as you die."

"I can't convince you I'm not here for the Sierra Madre or Elijah, so I'll prove it to you."

"Prove it... How? Words are worthless."

"I have the power to let Dog out of his cage. I'm going to prove it by not doing it."

"Hnh. No... No, you're not. Even though Dog's more docile, easier to control. You may regret this. This place... this place is where creatures like Dog can survive. The people that fill its streets... He is as vicious... _more_ vicious than them. His hunger can help you more than I can. When I am in control... this shell is... difficult to... fight in."

"What do you mean?"

"The... inhabitants are difficult to kill. You may have encountered them already. But they are not difficult to devour... and Dog is always hungry. If _he_ is with you, when they fall, _he_ will fall on _them_, end them. If _I_ am with you... fighting will be far more difficult."

"Even if Dog is more helpful, we can manage."

God laughed heartily. "I am not sure you belong here. No... you don't belong here. Yet... you came this far. And I'm not interested in remaining here any longer. I'll unlock the cage."

"All right. Thank you, God. You won't regret this, I promise."

He chuckled. "That remains to be seen. You have my trust... for now."

"Okay. Let's get out of here."

"Very well... Lead on."

With a nightkin with multiple personality disorder in tow, the Courier made her way out of the police station. That was one, or two, down, two to go.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Author's Notes:

Just so you know, when the narration is in italics, it's Z from Off the Record saying it. That includes the beginning of this chapter and the end of the last one. X3


	18. Chapter 17: Assemble the Team part 2

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Fallout. Fallout belongs to Bethesda, who purchased the rights from Black Isle.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Fallout:** New Vegas

Unknown Origins

By _Cyberweasel89_

**Chapter 17:** Assemble the Team – Dean and Christine

**XXXXXXXXXX**

As the Courier and God walked through the Villa back to the fountain, the Courier decided now was a good time to ask the nightkin some questions.

"So, um... Why did you put emphasis on the word 'master' before?"

"The 'master', Elijah... reminds Dog of someone from long ago." God explained. "His leader, commander. Commander_s_. The Master was a strong personality... personalities as well. Dog is slavish, was conditioned to serve the Master until death. The Old Man... Elijah, merely came along and opened that door in Dog's mind. Now Dog does whatever the Old Man wants."

"Oh. Um... What does Elijah make Dog do that angers you so much?"

"Gather others, drag them here... fetch, like an animal... and hurt them if they resist. Dog doesn't even blink, even hear their cries when he's twisted their arms full circle... Fragile things, screaming on the ground. To listen to him... commanding Dog... to hurt others... and Dog just nods, eager and willing to serve."

The Courier stopped to gather some casino chips from a dried-up fountain. "I-It sounds like it makes you mad."

"Mad? Mad doesn't even begin to describe... There's not a word for the hate I feel inside. It's consuming... twists every thought to red. After all that's laid ruin to the world... again and again, I thought at last, we could be free... thought Dog could be free. No... No, the world's always got another cage, waiting, keeping everything you want... just out of reach."

The Courier pocketed the chips in her waist satchel, turning back to the nightkin and frowning. "Can't you do anything, God?"

"Do anything? Me... Me, Dog puts in the cage, hurts himself to try and drown out my voice, when all I want to do... Grrahh... Hrrr... Nevermind. Useless. Finally had to start fighting back, screaming on my own. Had to take matters into my own hands, lock Dog up."

The Courier walked forward, taking God's large hand in her own, a small smile on her face. "You're trying to protect Dog... Having Elijah control him, hurt him... You want to protect him."

God's face softened. "I've watched over Dog for so long. Tried to stop him from... hurting others, killing others, quiet that mindless howling instinct of his. He doesn't understand. He has the brain of a child... He knows when he does wrong, he just can't help himself."

"You care about him, God."

"He's my brother... kin. Without him, I wouldn't exist. Maybe I was nothing more than his conscience, trying to rein him in... Useless. I... I just need him to show restraint, let go of the needs, the hungers. Ease the burden... just once, so I can have my thoughts to myself."

"Why won't Dog listen to you?"

"The instinct is stronger than me. _Dog_ is stronger than me. I don't know when I first spoke, or when I first started thinking for myself, it was so long ago... I... slept, for a long time... before... I want to believe _I_ was the one in control. Once. Then Dog got a new Master. A new voice. And I woke up, to protect him."

The Courier smiled. "Thank you for sharing that with me, God."

The nightkin chuckled. "You're a brave one. Few would be willing to discuss such things with a super mutant, especially a nightkin. You asked me questions... Were you sure you were ready for the answers?"

"Of course. We're in this together, God. We need to trust each other."

"Hm. I don't think I've ever met anyone like you. I think with my brain. Dog things with his stomach. Elijah thinks with his greed. You... You think with your heart."

"I try to do whatever I think is right, just like you do with Dog."

"I... suppose I should apologize. I said you were as greedy as the Old Man... But I guess I was wro-"

God fell to one knee, panting.

"God? What's wrong?"

"I... I can feel Dog taking control again! The hunger is summoning him!"

"What do I do?"

"Hurry, play the tape of Elijah, or he'll eat you!"

"Um... uh... Okay!"

She hurriedly played the audio log.

"Are you listening? From now on, when I talk to you, pay attention. I've left markers on your pip-boy. Find the three other collars. 8, 12 and 14, get them to the fountain. Obey me and you can all go free." Elijah's voice commanded.

"Master? Dog not hear you come in! Too hungry, now... Right beside Dog? Master, Dog is listening now you are close and he can hear you over hunger."

"Um... Dog, Master wants you to listen right now."

The nightkin looked about wildly. "Master, Dog is here. What does Master want?"

"Dog, look to your right and down. There's a girl standing there."

"Master? You sound different... Quieter, softer." He looked. "Oh! Dog see! Master want Dog to fetch? Can Dog eat?"

"No! Listen to her. Let her lead you in my place."

"Yes, Master. Dog doesn't want to go back in cage. Dog will follow small bite. Hm... Smell like lilacs. Smell tasty."

"Dog!" the Courier reprimanded.

"Yes! Of course, Master! Dog not eat. Dog listen."

"Thank you. Master left, Dog. I'm the Courier."

"Curry? But you don't smell spicy."

"No, 'Courier', Dog."

"Courier Dog?"

"Just Courier."

"Courier."

"You got it!"

"Dog do good! Courier is pleased?"

"Very. Thank you, Dog."

"Yay, Dog is happy!"

The Courier giggled.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The two walked along through the Villa, the Courier finding Dog was a little faster than God. Every time she stopped to gather casino chips, she spoke to the nightkin.

"Um, so Dog..."

"Yes, Courier?"

"C-Can you tell me how you got to the Sierra Madre?"

"Here? Followed voice in air, then here. Here as long as can remember. Don't like this place... hard to find things to eat sometimes. Better than the cage. Dog doesn't like being locked up. Voice in air didn't say anything about a cage and nothing to eat."

"Um... Voice in the air?"

"Dog hears many voice. One in air. The... other one. And Master. Master is the nicest. Gets mean, mad sometimes. But lets Dog feed. Master was quiet for a long time until Dog heard him on your arm... Did you eat him? Dog gets hungry, too. Being hungry makes the voice... mad."

"Oh. Uh... C-Can you tell me about the other voice inside you?"

"Don't know where other voice come from. Wish would go away. Always trying to stop Dog, caging Dog. Voice started talking not long ago, Dog think... was always there. Start talking when Master showed up? Making Dog sleep, go to cage. Voice hates Master. It okay... voice always hide when Master around, go quiet, watch Master as he does things. Voice scared of Master, Dog thinks.

"Um... The Master sounds like he treats you well, I guess..."

"Master always feed dog if not in cage. Master lets Dog do what Dog wants. Not like other voice in cage. Always mad with Dog, shouting at him."

"Okay... Uh... Did you bring me here?"

"Dog fetches. Dragged you here... Dog thinks. You not struggle like others. Trap makes you sleep, make your voice go to cage. Dog doing what he was told. Try to catch as many as he can, can eat the others. No eat you, though. Master talk through you, like voice inside Dog. Dog missed hearing Master, not hear Master for long time."

The Courier felt a shiver run up her spine. "Um... D-Do you know the way back?"

"Might find way back if Master lets you go. If he not want you to go, he makes head red spray. Then Dog has to find another one. To leave? Go through gate, walk. Hard to find way, _Dog_ can do it, too hard for most to come here. Why so quiet in streets."

"C-Could _I_ find my way back?"

"Maybe. Not sure you could find way back once leave. Dog has to smell and hunt for path back here sometimes... Cloud keep moving. It okay... No one ever leave except Dog... and Dog not want to leave. You here until Master lets you go."

The Courier swallowed hard.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

They soon came upon another ghost person.

"Fooood!" Dog droned, running forward.

The Courier watched as Dog punched at a ghost person with a bear trap on its fist. The nightkin seemed quiet adept at using the bear trap latched onto his arm as a weapon. When the ghost person fell, Dog jumped upon it, tearing off its legs and arms and stuffing his face with them.

"ON NOM NOM." Dog called out as he ate. Soon, he burped. "Mm... Dog getting full." He said through a full mouth.

The Courier uneasily walked up to the nightkin.

"Um... Did you just... _devour_ that... ghost person?"

"Dog doesn't like to eat them always, sometimes so many. Keep stabbing Dog, cutting him." Dog replied, rubbing his belly as he sat on the ground next to the remains of the ghost person.

"Uh... D-Doesn't that make the voice... mad?"

"Voice doesn't get mad when Dog feeds on the people here. Voice not like ghost people, worried there are too many to eat, too many knives. Started eating them because wouldn't go quiet when Dog smashed them with bear jaw. Only want one. Got Dog angry, others kept cutting him, and slicing him with knives, when he tried to make one go quiet with teeth. So Dog started crushing them, then when they stop twitching, then eats them. Then they not get back up with hssss-chkkk noise. Dog not like that. Dog can tell when they not yet dead... twitch a bit, make low noise, then noise when they get back up, listen."

"Um... D-Do you need to eat them to make them stay down?"

"No... If you rip their arms off... or legs, mask people stay down. Easier to rip off legs and arms when they fall on ground, just keep hitting them. If can't make them fall down and rip off legs, make them ash. Saw one caught in electric sparks so much, he turn into burnt pile. Not get back up."

"So... Dismemberment and disintegrations take them down for good, Dog?"

"Dism... Disin..." the nightkin struggled to repeat. "Chop legs off while stand up, eat when fall down. If not that, make them electric ash. Dog knows where to hit them, make them stay down... Base of neck, lower back, hit it hard enough, life _snaps_ out of them."

"Can you show me where, please, Dog?" the Courier asked him.

"Dog can... See where back of collar is? Follow down, to lower back. Hit neck, middle back, right on spine, crack. Then they not get back up. Dog hits them, then Dog eats them... easier to make quite twice that way."

"I see. Thank you very much, Dog. I appreciate you helping me."

"Hnn-hnnn."

The Courier giggled.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The Courier dropped Dog off at the fountain and made her way to the Residential District, where Collar Fourteen waited.

"Picking up signals near your location. Detonators. Watch for traps."

Elijah's voice spoke to her through her Pimp-Boy. Looking around, the Courier saw a dead ghost person, evidently killed by some sort of trap. She walked forward and disarmed a frag mine in front of some stairs before heading up them. The doorway to her right contained a pressure plate, which she stepped around. Evidently, it would have activated two rigged shotguns. On the way out, she stepped over a tripwire that would've triggered a bouquet of grenades hanging by the door.

The door led back outside and down some stairs, where she found an open area with another set of stairs and an area of concentrated Cloud pockets. Deciding she'd better avoid the Cloud, she headed upstairs, finding another ghost person killed by a trap. This time, a tripwire and grenade bouquet. The room had some casino chips in the bedside table, but little of interest. The exit door led to a balcony that went around the wall of the courtyard filled with the Cloud, luckily above its influence. She went along, disabling a mine along the way, and came upon another door at the end. This doorway had a pressure plate that she carefully stepped around.

The room on the other side had two exits. One led outside to some stairs down into a concentrated pocket of the Cloud. The other was a ruined wall that led to another room. The other room it was.

That room once again led outside onto a balcony, above the Cloud's range. She ran along it, picking up a few casino chips along the way. The balcony had a wooden plank leading to the top of some stairs with a door. The stairs led down into the Cloud. The Courier decided she would head inside.

The room had little of interest aside from some casino chips in a desk. But the opposite door led to a balcony, which she ran along and came to a drop where the railing was missing. It was outside the Cloud's influence to her right, but if she jumped a certain distance, she would land on a pressure plate that did who knew what. She took her chance and used her clean knife spear as a pole vault, landing well past the pressure plate. Sighing with relief, the Courier continued down the road.

The road was long, but she only saw one ghost person along the way, which she killed with her trusty spear. Some stairs led up and into a room, which had some more stairs up. At the top room, she found a ghoul, of all things, sitting on a chair overlooking the residential distract, a working radio playing music on a table to his left, and another chair to his right, both facing toward a hole in the wall to view the residential district.

He was wearing a tattered tuxedo, a top hat, and some large sunglasses, the same collar she wore around his neck as well. A cigarette in an ash tray sat next to the radio on the table to his left, still emitting smoke, while a glass of some kind of ruddy brown and red liquid sat next to it, like some kind of martini. A dress cane rested against the arm of his chair, while leaning against a nearby wall was some kind of long, scary-looking rifle.

"Have a seat. Came all this way, least I can do is let you rest your feet for a second." the ghoul greeted her, in a surprisingly smooth voice for a ghoul. He had an accent, too, though the Courier couldn't place it. She knew next to nothing about countries outside post-nuclear America. Shrugging, she took a seat in the chair next to his.

"The Sierra Madre. Mmm... beauty, isn't she. She the one who invited you here?" he began. "Or, maybe you didn't catch her voice on the radio. Woke up, _confused_, like some of the others. Least _you're_ still breathing. By the way, don't get up or make any sudden motions, no matter how uncomfortable that chair gets... the cushion's just for show."

The Courier swallowed hard. "Um... Wh-What are you talking about, sir?"

"Might be a bit rude, but that chair you're sitting in... It's got a shaped charge in the seat cushion. Get up without my permission, I'll blast your ass so far through your head, it'll turn the moon cherry pie red. So... let's keep this sweet and polite, and finish our conversation with no misunderstandings."

The Courier's eye widened. "Um... I'll... I'll save my questions for the end, sir. P-Please, go on."

"And that's what I've missed. A rapt audience." He sounded delighted. "Now... Just because I work in entertainment, doesn't mean I'm a moron. I heard my necktie beeping, I know what that means... I'm part of this somehow. I want out of this contract. And if you put me in it, I'm not going to be too happy. So whatever's going on here, if you're part of all this? You're taking orders from me."

The Courier felt a shiver run up her spine. He sounded deadly serious... "Um... I'll... I'll cooperate. What do you want, sir?"

"Good, good! Then, we're in business! I may be a betting man, but I like it when the odds are in our favor." He again sounded delighted. "If you're here with who I think, then I'd rather have you on my side than his. An... ace in the hole. You want to live, I want what's in the Madre. Real simple."

"Um... Okay, sir. Sh-Should we head out?"

"Let's go... partner." He stood. "Dean Domino, by the way. Singer, entertainer, thief."

The Courier stood as well, albeit uneasily. "Wait, Dean Domino? As in... the Pre-War lounge singer?"

"Ah, so you've heard of me. Always delightful to meet a fan. And you are?"

"I'm the..." Actually, she thought better than to just go by her alias in front of this man. "I'm Kaya. Kaya Wylde."

"A pleasure, Kaya. Now..." Dean walked over to the rifle on the wall, picking it up and strapping it to his back. "Don't have to take the long way back. There's a shortcut across the way, you see."

"Um... O-Okay. L-Lead me there, please."

"But of course."

The ghoul took to walking down the stairs, lighting a cigarette and his dress cane hanging from his arm. The Courier followed, using her spear as a walking staff.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The Courier followed Dean through the building and back down onto the streets. They were walking at a leisurely pace, so the Courier figured she could ask the ghoul a few questions.

"Going to be sad to leave the residential district. Well... not really."

"So, um... Mr. Domino? What can you tell me about the Villa and the town?"

"Residential area, clinic, police station. Should keep away from the police station, it's a ghost people hangout. Salida del Sol, Puesta del Sol are East Town, West Town. 'Sunrise' and 'Sunset.' Or were when the streets and sky weren't covered with toxic gas. Ghost people don't come into the Villa much. West Town and East Town, though... they're thick with the Cloud _and_ ghost people, like hunting grounds."

"Um... C-Can you tell me about the Cloud?"

"The Cloud? Showed up after the Bomb. I think. I got used to it in small doses. Now, it covers the city. Over the years, it kept climbing up out of the Sierra Madre, until it was curtains for the sun. Didn't see the sky again. Doesn't seem to bother the ghost people. Can't see through it too well, though, so sometimes I can use the Cloud for cover... if I get desperate."

"And the vending machines?"

"Those little company stores? Sinclair's toy boxes. Put in a casino chip, get a treat, like you're some dog doing tricks." He added the last part bitterly. "Take any of the casino chips, put 'em into the machine, and you'll get something out. A snack, a cola, something to mend a tear in your shirt. Sometimes you have to know exactly what to ask for, other times, there's codes for, uh... unconventional items. For emergencies."

"What other items can you get out of the machines?"

"If it's an emergency you can get chems for any, uh... condition. Sinclair left that for doctors and trained professionals, not the common folk. Even security and maintenance could get special supplies out of them. Staff had codes on little cards they could use to unlock them."

"Where can I find these codes?"

"Around." Dean dismissed. "Don't have much use for them myself. Not worth the risk to get them. I've got all the basics covered, as long as I have the chips to pay for them. I don't need much."

"Um... I've never seen machines like these before. I mean, we have Eat-o-Trons and Nuka-Cola machines, but nothing like this..."

"Yeah, well, Sinclair saw them at some world's fair and asked if he could use them. Supposedly developed by a place called Big Mountain. Amazing to you, sure. To me, they're grifters without the personality."

"Uh... How are the vending machines grifters, Mr. Domino?"

"Sinclair made sure if you spent money here, it went _one_ direction. Although that's not how _he_ described it."

"Why? How did Sinclair describe it, Mr. Domino?"

"Called it 'self-sufficient.' Like he was doing the residents a favor. Riiiight."

"Hm... Um, is there anyone else alive around here?" the Courier asked.

"'Alive's' a tricky word. The locals, the ghost people? Not sure it applies to them. They're a little... uncivilized. They don't talk much. As in, at all."

"Where did they come from?"

"Friend... 'there's more mysteries in heaven and earth...' Wait, no. 'There is more between heaven and earth…' Oh, forget it. I'd sooner ask what makes me an undying son of a bitch than spend any thought as to why _they_ crawled to life here. I'm counting myself lucky I still have my faculties. They sure don't. Then again, they might not have had the... focus I do."

"Um... Focus?"

"Always had the Sierra Madre to keep my mind occupied. Most folks, they don't have the same drive, the same need. Not worth my time. Pretty much ghost people before the Bomb, now ghost people after."

"Uh... Have you tried to deal with them, Mr. Domino?"

"Tried talking to them, bribing them, leaving food... nothing. In the years since, they haven't changed their approach, but I sure have. They catch you, they drag you into the Cloud... and you're not coming back out. After that, having your necktie go off would be mercy. My advice? Stay out of their way. They don't die easy."

"Why? How tough are they?"

"You shoot them, they get back up. You stab them, they get back up. That's why I have explosives all over this place. Unless you blow them up, chop them up, disintegrate 'em, the ghost people don't go down. Not enough bullets in the town to spend on them. So unless you're a _real_ good shot, save one for yourself, right before they catch you."

"Um... Is there anything else I should know about them, Mr. Domino?"

"Whatever we do, don't rile them up. Normally, there's only a few, maybe a pack. There's more out there. A lot more. If they find out someone's trespassing, it'd be shaking a hornet's nest. Don't want to think how many of them could fill these streets."

The Courier felt a shiver run up her spine. "Um... Have other people showed up in search of the Sierra Madre?"

"Tourists, you bet. They don't stay long... and they don't stay alive long. If they survive the Cloud, the ghost people, the traps, _then_ greed takes over, and they start sizing each other up for funeral suits."

"What happened to the people who came to the Villa?"

"Dead. Either got killed by one of the Villa's attractions, locals, or the beautiful weather. Can tell you right now, they didn't stick close to each other, and when they did, they let down their guard at the wrong moment. Some left signposts to others, trying to help them out. Just led to them getting killed by someone a little more greedy than they were."

"So the visitors all killed each other?"

"Sure. First, they figure they can get out, escape. Then they start thinking it over, start thinking about how they can have it all. They start weighing the odds, taking risks... and then taking each other out. Bomb collars or not. Although, it's odd... the bomb collars weren't linked before like they are now. Guess someone learned what the problem was."

Elijah... "Uh... Any advice for getting through this, Mr. Domino?"

"Well... considering my life's on the line too, yeah, a few things. First off, keep everyone together. Keep checking behind you, make sure your partner is following. Don't let them wander. Also, don't go running crazy everywhere. Almost every inch of this town is lethal. So if you're not sure, take it real slow. And speaking of slow, don't go shouting, or attracting attention. Go quiet. The ghost people find you, it's over.

"Um... You mentioned some left supplies around the Villa. Do you know who left the suitcases with the white handprints?"

"Yes. Those are my secret stashes."

"Why did you leave them around the Villa?"

"Why? Survival. I still needed to leave the residential area to scrounge up supplies, and I don't like taking chances. The Villa's dangerous. So I left weapons and stims in case I got in a tight spot. Then, of course, _you_ show up, putting your _mitts_ on everything."

"Um... No, I didn't touch them. I, I only saw them around." The Courier defended hastily.

"If you say so. I suppose this qualifies as an emergency, so I'm not complaining. Much."

"Uh... Okay, so... What kind of supplies can you scrounge up?"

"I still need to eat. At least, I think I do. The Villa provides... even if it's not as glamorous as the Cantina Madrid. Once I... well, realized what you could scrounge up around here, I had a lot of time to experiment. Not the best chef, but... Well, here's the mix, if you can stomach it. I call it a 'Sierra Madre martini.'

He reached into his pocket and handed her a whiskey bottle of the same stuff he had been drinking when she first met her. She popped the cap and gave it a whiff. Alcohol. Yuck. She definitely didn't want to end up stripping naked in _this_ place.

"Um... H-How do you make it, Mr. Domino?"

"Scrape some Cloud residue off the walls, mash it in a tin can with some vodka and crushed junk food from the machines, shake well, pour it into an empty whiskey bottle or glass, then hold your nose and down it."

"Really? You drink something with the Cloud in it?"

"Yes. It's surprisingly strong and restorative once you get used to it. There's other recipes you can do with the Cloud residue, although it might take a hardier survivalist than me to brew them. I stick to martinis."

"Um... Okay. Th-Thank you, Mr. Domino."

"No problem, _partner_."

The way he said that sent a shiver up the Courier's spine...

**XXXXXXXXXX**

They ran into a ghost person as they left the residential district. Dean pulled the automatic rifle off his back and fired at it, shooting it through the chest and head and felling it to the ground.

"It's not dead, it's a trick. Get an axe." He told the Courier. She quickly ran over and chopped it up with her clean knife spear.

When they reached the fountain, Dean ran right up to where Dog was waiting.

"Where the hell did you get this one? 'Dog?' What, so you don't forget your name?" he asked the super mutant.

"I... don't remember you... Who are you."

"A little slow, huh? Uh... Dean. Dean Domino. I... live here."

"You look like food, smell like food. Dog... hungry."

"All right, pal, you stay in your corner, I'll stay in mine." He turned and whispered to the Courier. "Do not leave me alone with this _thing_."

The Courier giggled and made her way to the clinic, where Collar Twelve waited.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"The Villa's comm speakers have aged poorly, like the Madre. Pre-War junk. The speakers emit a signal that'll set off your collar if you stay too long. There are damaged speakers and shielded ones. The damaged speakers can be destroyed at range. Don't get close, you can't switch them off like a radio."

Elijah's voice spoke through her Pimp-Boy. The Courier walked forward into the medical district, looking above to see some graffiti that said 'Look before you go ahead.' She walked past it and heard her collar beeping. Running forward, she saw an arrow and a graffiti face pointing toward a speaker, which she shot with her police pistol. Her collar immediately stopped beeping.

The square she was in only had one exit, so she followed the passage to the next square, where a ghost person was waiting for her. Lunging forward, the Courier swung her clean knife spear at its head, surprised when she severed its neck. Was she that strong?

Looking around the square, she found some ammo boxes in a corner, under some graffiti that read 'If anyone finds this I'm so sorry you're here.' Inside she found some .357 rounds for her police pistol and a stealth boy! She pocketed it, feeling pleased with her find, and grateful to the kind soul who left the supplies there.

Stepping into the next hall, her collar began beeping again. The Courier ran forward, seeing an arrow painted on the wall, but no speaker. Running past it, she saw the speaker was on the other side, and shot it with her police pistol, destroying it. With a sigh of relief, she stepped through the door ahead, thinking it was the clinic. It was thick with the Cloud, though, so she moved on.

A ghost person threw spears at her from an alley, but she ran forward with her signature speed and sliced through its legs with her spear. That done, the clinic was just on the other side of the street.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Picking up an emitter signature. Watch for security holograms. Dangerous. Don't shoot them! Attacking them is useless."

Elijah's voice spoke through her Pimp-Boy. She'd seen friendly holograms, but if security holograms were that dangerous, she'd have to keep an eye out.

She found one of Dean's secret stashes in the corner of the waiting room, but didn't touch it out of respect. But she found the vending machine code for stimpaks on the reception counter, which she loaded into her Pimp-Boy.

A computer terminal was by the entrance, which the Courier fired up. It seemed a security hologram was patrolling the second floor, and she could switch it to the first floor if she wanted. But that was where she was currently at, so two articles were of more interest to her. They seemed to be owner's manual for the security holograms. It explained that the holograms had a limited field of view, but could change facing at any time. Holograms would turn yellow as a warning if they saw a threat, then back to blue if the threat left. But if the threat persisted, they would turn red and attack with energy beams. Though holograms couldn't be hurt directly, their emitters could be destroyed or disabled, and luckily they couldn't move beyond the range of their emitters.

With that knowledge in hand, the Courier made her way down the hall, hearing Elijah's voice pop up on her Pimp-Boy again.

"Damn speakers at the end of the hall. Red light means they're shielded. Must be a way to shut them off somewhere else."

Down the hall to the left was a line of rooms with Auto-Docs. But the second she walked down it, her collar started beeping because of a speaker at the end of the hall. It was shielded, so she'd have to find a way to shut it down.

Going down the other hall, the Courier found a room that stunk of two headless corpses, along with a strange suit somewhat similar to recon armor sitting on a stretcher next to a one of those odd chef knives her spear used. Several of the explosive collars she and Dean were wearing were around the necks of mannequins, while a pile of cloud residue sat on a table next to a computer. The Courier took a look at the entries.

"Gas Leak. Admitted 3 workers from Puesta del Sol Switching Station. Exposed to some unidentified airborne toxin from the ventilation system. Caused severe lung and tissue damage, inhalation isn't the problem, it's absorbed through the skin. Researching its effects. The gas, whatever it is, may be building up in vents beneath the town. Asked foreman to look into source before government inspectors do."

So it seemed the Cloud was a problem even before the bombs fell...

"Safety Suits. Chemical suits arrived today. They're bulky, hard to talk and move in. It was difficult to unlock the clasps once in place, had to get one of the staff to help me out of it. I told the construction crew to keep the suits ready while working in the switching station and to be careful with them, we only have a limited number. I asked Sinclair to order more in the event of a leak in the Villa, and prepared cost estimates for another gas leak to support my case. Didn't need to, he agreed to the request immediately, then asked if he could see the workers and make sure they were all right."

Hm... Chemical suits... Could they be the hazmat suits the Ghost People wore?

Making her way further down the hall and to the left, the Courier found the door to the basement, but it was locked up tight. She'd have to find the key. It was probably upstairs, but that hologram was up there. Maybe if she changed its patrol route from the second to the first floor? She made her way back to the waiting room, accessing the security terminal and switching the hologram's patrol to the first floor. She turned around to see it standing over by the stairs, facing away from her. With haste, she made her way in the opposite direction and used the opposite stairs to climb to the second floor.

Upstairs she found two offices largely devoid of anything interesting save for a few stray casino chips. But along the hallway wall she found the emitter for the clinic's security hologram, which she shot with her police pistol and destroyed.

In one of the offices she found a terminal entry talking about the vending machine code for Med-X.

"Dispenser Codes. Codes for the public dispensers arrived today. Sinclair instructed us in their use in case of emergency. Should be able to get stims and other treatments from the machines. Sinclair indicated it could dispense more based on the nature of the medical emergency or subject's condition. Among the codes, he kept asking if we could make sure the code for Med-X was backed up. He must have said it three times, I don't think he realized it? Must be stress. Made a backup of the code on this terminal just in case."

She found an option to download the code, which she did and loading into her Pimp-Boy. In another office she found the vending machine code for Mentats on a shelf, which she also loaded into her Pimp-Boy.

The Courier continued on and found what seemed to be the chief physician's office. There was a terminal on his desk, which she took a look at the entries of. One was an appointment calendar. It seemed Vera Keyes and Sinclair had come in twice, along with a single appointment of Vera Keyes and Dean Domino. It also mentioned a single Auto-Doc was moved to the casino. Another was a log about the appointment with Dean and Vera together.

"Ms. Keyes showed up today, sans Sinclair, escorted by Mr. Domino. He explained to me that Ms. Keyes had developed a throat infection, and asked if the Auto-Doc could help. I asked about the Sierra Madre's Auto-Doc. He said he didn't want to 'alarm' Sinclair. Ran some tests. Ms. Keyes' voice is fine, her loss of voice was more listlessness, symptomatic of excessive Med-X usage. When I tried to speak to her about it, Mr. Domino intervened. I warned them too much of the chem could render a subject comatose, and Domino laughed. I lost my temper, and he said they'd return another time when I was in 'better spirits.' Despise that man."

"Unpleasant Visit. Domino stopped by to ask about the test results and Vera's voice. He seemed concerned she would lose her voice for the Gala Event. I told him if Ms. Keyes was concerned, she should see me, and I would only disclose any medical information to her. I told him the Auto-Docs were more than capable of healing Ms. Keyes' voice if she developed any throat infection, and we could even operate if need be if she tore her larynx. He seemed satisfied by the news, apologized, amazingly enough, and left a bottle of wine as a token of his appreciation. I told him I felt it was inappropriate, he insisted. I dumped it in the trash."

Sure enough, there was a bottle of wine sitting in a tipped-over wastebasket. Not much use to her, but it seemed Dean wasn't well liked, at least not by the clinic's chief physician.

In the chief physician's desk was a key that was labeled for the clinic's basement. That in hand, she made her way down there.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The basement was a single room with little of interest, aside from a terminal for the clinic's main power. It powered the Auto-Docs, the security hologram, and the speakers. The Courier shut it down, relieved that the Auto-Docs were still running on backup power.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Back up on the first floor, the Courier made her way down the hall of Auto-Docs, finding a computer terminal in one room with an entry titled 'Exhaustion.'

"Ms. Keyes' insomnia seems to have gotten worse, so we ended up ordering the new Auto-Doc upgrades, must have cost Sinclair a fortune. The new programs for the Auto-Docs ameliorate the effects of exhaustion. Have already spoken to the staff about side effects and dangers of prolonged use. Wanted to make sure they weren't using it to pull double-shifts. Sinclair asked if these codes could be downloaded into the public dispensers. The codes aren't compatible, unfortunately. He said he'd 'look into it.' Guess his contacts at Big Mountain will be getting a call soon."

Huh. So she could use the Auto-Docs to sleep without sleeping? She was pretty tired, but she had to find Collar Twelve first.

In one room, she heard a tapping sound coming from one of the Auto-Docs. Pressing a button on the control pad, it opened, and a young woman stumbled out.

Now, the Courier was known for her short height and large bust. But this girl came close. She had to have been an F-cup, and just three inches over her own five foot height. She was dressed in some cargo pants, combat boots, and a tank top, but... she was completely bald, with some kind of scars on her head, by her mouth, and a fresh red one along her neck, just above her collar. She looked disoriented, blinking a few times, then wincing like blinking caused her pain.

"Um... Are you all right?" the Courier asked her.

The young woman blinked a few times more, as if just noticing she was there. She opened her mouth to speak... but nothing came out. She reached up and traced the scar on her throat, eyes widening.

"Um... I'm here to help." the Courier pointed out.

The young woman seemed shaken. She turned around to look at the Auto-Doc she just came out of, recoiling in fright and opening her mouth as if to scream, but no sound was made. She turned back to the Courier, hands clenching into fists as she took a step back and studied the girl, eyes lingering much longer on her half-exposed breasts.

"Um… I-Is something wrong?" The Courier felt like she was a piece of meat being sized up... but she usually got that feeling from men, not women.

The young woman opened her mouth again, only to wince. She reached up and traced her finger along the scar on her throat again, her face a bit more angry than pained. Her hand brushed against her collar, and her frown deepened. She raised both hands to feel at it, finger going for the lock.

"Stop!" the Courier cried out.

The young woman stopped, but raised a brow.

"I-It's a bomb collar. I-If you mess with it, it'll go off." she uneasily explained.

Her expression changed to that of surprise at that, but then noticed the Courier's own collar, raising a brow.

"Um... Let's just say we're in this together, okay?"

The young woman frowned, narrowing her eyes and slowing shaking her head.

"Huh? Listen, we need to cooperate if we want to get out of here."

The young woman shook her head, drawing an imaginary line between them.

"But... But together we can get through this... Please..." the Courier pleaded.

The young woman shook her head, crossing her arms over her hefty breasts.

"I'm not trying to order you around... But please, your life is tied to mine. You may have just met me, but you need to trust me... please."

The young woman looked at the Courier's collar once more, forming a circle with her hand and bringing them to her eyes, as if looking through binoculars. She nodded, lowered her hands from her head and pointed to herself, then the Courier.

"You're... looking for something? Um... I can help. I promise."

The young woman studied the Courier once more, then her expression softened. She shook her head slowly, giving a silent sigh. She nodded at the diminutive girl, raised an eyebrow, then nodded at the door.

"Great!" she clasped the young woman's hand in her own, a gesture that surprised and further softened the mute. "Thank you so much. I'm the Courier. What's your name?"

Shrugging, the woman made an X with her arms.

"Um... X? Oh, Chris."

She nodded, but then shook her head.

"Chris-something, then. Um... Christa? Christina? Christine?"

The young woman nodded and gave a thumbs up.

"Okay. Nice to meet you, Christine."

Christine nodded, pointing to the door.

"Right. Let's go."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

As they were leaving the clinic, Christine stopped, glanced at a nearby speaker, then at the Courier's collar, frowning. The Courier turned around to face her.

"Um... I-It's a decayed speaker. Stay too long near one and it'll make your collar go off."

Christine tapped the Courier's collar, causing the girl to recoil slightly, and held up her hand, opening and closing it really fast. She tapped her own collar, then did the same. The mute pointed at the Courier's Pimp-Boy, then her collar, then her own collar, opening and closing her hand much slower.

"Wait... You can dampen the speaker's frequency somehow?" the Courier exclaimed.

Christine was about to nod, but stopped. She pointed to herself and shook her head. She pointed at the Courier's Pimp-Boy, then both their collars, made a triangle, and made the slow pulsing sign with her hand again.

"Um... So it doesn't work on every collar?"

Christine nodded, opening her mouth and making the motion of turning a dial.

"It's just your frequency?"

Christine nodded, then pointed to the Courier's Pimp-Boy and between the two of them.

"But only between us?"

She nodded.

"That's amazing, Christine!"

Christine shrugged, then held up a finger to pause. She ducked into one of the side clinic rooms, walking out with that same suit the Courier saw laid out on the stretcher earlier, along with a pair of biker goggles around her eyes and the knife she saw earlier attached to her belt. It seemed to have a slight red glow, though...

"That was yours? You left it there?" the Courier asked.

Christine nodded.

"Hm... You need a long-range weapon, though..."

Christine thought for a moment, then pointed at the Courier.

"Me?"

She shook her head, pointing at her own back.

"Oh, you want this weapon?" the Courier asked, pulling the odd rifle the mysterious stranger had given her off her back.

Christine nodded.

"You can have it. I wasn't using it. Did it belong to you, too?"

Christine nodded, taking the rifle and strapping it to her back. The Courier handed her all her microfusion cells next.

All set up, the two made their way out.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

As the two left the clinic, a Ghost Person descended upon them. Christine was quick to pull her rifle off her back and fire odd blue holographic cubes at it. The Courier watched as it fell to the ground, inert, Christine taking her cosmic knife for her belt and chopping its limbs off, burning it as well. Had the knife been heated up? But metal didn't stay hot for that long. Then again, these knives didn't seem to be made of metal...

"Um... So, Christine... How did you end up in that Auto-Doc?" the Courier asked, uneasy.

Christine stood up, wiping her brow. She moved her finger in a circle, then frowned and dragged her hand down over her eyes, pointing to the Courier when she was done.

"You were knocked out?"

Christine nodded. She pointed at the Courier, made a circle, then pointed at the Courier's feet.

Something about her feet? She circled the area? Or... "Um... You want to know how _I_ got here?"

Christine nodded, smiling. She repeated the circling motion again, this time lowering her hand and circling her finger inward until she was pointing at the spot between the two of them. Still pointing at the ground, she raised an eyebrow.

"Um... I followed a radio signal here. It was a woman's voice."

Christine paused, and after several moments, raised her eyebrow again.

The Courier sighed, shrugging her shoulders. "I can't even tell you why... I just... did..."

Christine studied the Courier for a moment, then simply nodded. She pointed at the Courier, then the casino in the distance, slowing shook her head, then pointed in the direction of the main gate.

"Me? I would leave if I could. But what about you?"

Christine slowly shook her head, pointing at the ground.

"You're... not going to leave?"

Christine frowned. She glanced in the direction of the casino, then the main gate, then back at the casino. She shrugged, without strength or conviction, and wasn't looking at the Courier when she did.

"Why would you stay here of all places?"

Christine frowned, making a motion as if reloading a gun, then hefting to her shoulder and taking aim. She paused, making a sweeping circle, then wrapped her arms around the circle, as if covering it.

At first, the Courier wasn't sure what Christine meant. But then it dawned on her. "You want to kill something here, then protect this place..."

Christine nodded, looking impressed.

"Why do you want to do that?"

Christine looked slightly surprised. She scrunched her face up and pointed at the Courier's collar. She made a sweeping circle, looking about the area, then brought both hands to her neck, holding them there. Still holding her hands there, she gave a grave look, shaking her head.

This one also took the Courier a few moments to interpret. "You're worried someone's going to find this place? Use it to hurt others?"

Christine nodded, hands still around her neck. She looked pained for a moment, then looked away. Her fingers fluttered almost frantically for a moment, then she ran her hands along her scalp, throat, and collar. She pointed at the Courier's Pimp-Boy, slightly frustrated, and gestured all around her, her shoulders seeming to sag. After a moment, she glanced back at the Courier, looked around her, and shook her head.

"You can't protect the world from the world... it's useless..."

Christine pointed at the Courier's collar, then her own, and shook her head slowly. She cut the air with her hand and made a blank face.

Hm... The Courier decided she would have to change Christine's mind somehow.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

As they left the medical district, the Courier carefully studied Christine. The scar on her throat was fresh and red, but... the ones on her head and mouth were old, healed.

"Um... Christine?"

The mute stopped, turning to face the Courier and crossing her arms over her chest.

"I just realized... those facial scars aren't from the Auto-Doc. The throat scar was."

Christine nodded slowly, then put her hand in front of her throat, closing it slowly, and pointed to the Courier.

"I can't restore your voice. We'd need an Auto-Doc for that." the Courier noted sadly.

Christine shivered slightly, shaking her head.

"Um... Okay. I'm not sure why the Auto-Doc, uh... shaved you bald."

Christine looked blankly at the Courier, then touched her bare scalp, smiled, and shook her head.

"Wait, the Auto-Doc didn't shave you bald?" the Courier realized.

Christine waved her hand, shaking her head. She nodded in the direction of the casino.

"No, wait. I'm sorry, but I'd like to hear this, please. You were bald before?"

Christine nodded with an exasperated look, then made three circles with her hand, raising them and waving them like wings. She put both hands in front of herself, making a motion with her hands as if writing something.

"Wait, that's a Brotherhood of Steel symbol, right? You're a scribe?"

The mute nodded, looking impressed.

"How did you get all the way out here, then?" the Courier asked.

Christine shrugged, then pointed to the Courier and shrugged.

"Um... Okay? Where were you before?"

Christine moved her finger in a wider circle, then raised her hands over her eyes.

"You were... looking for something?"

She shook her head, then made a motion of two fingers walking.

"No... someone."

She nodded and raised a finger.

"A robot? Woman? Man?"

Christine nodded at man. She raised her hands to her chin, drawing them down, then clenched her fists and raised them to the sky.

"An... angry, bearded... man?"

Christine nodded, tapping the side of her head and expanding her hands.

"Someone smart?"

She nodded, then circled her ear.

"And crazy..."

Christine nodded, frowning and pointing in the direction of the Villa fountain.

That one took the Courier a few moments to figure out... "You're... looking for Elijah?"

Christine nodded, looking concerned.

"It sounds like it's pretty important for you to find him..."

She nodded, raising two fingers and having them walk together. Then she looked down at her fingers, and her face twisted in anger. She chopped at her two fingers, drawing them apart, and pointing one at herself.

"He... cut you off from someone?"

Christine nodded.

"Family? Husband?"

She frowned, shaking her head at family, and even more so at husband.

"Uh... Boyfriend?" But then it hit her... the way Christine was checking her out earlier... "Oh... Girlfriend."

Christine hesitated, then waved her hand.

"You were more than girlfriends... lovers." The Courier realized.

She nodded, looking at the Courier a little surprised.

The Courier placed her hands on her hips. "What, you think I don't understand love?"

Christine just raised an eyebrow.

"I understand how important a loved one can be, Christine." she pouted.

Christine nodded, slowly. She seemed to be studying the Courier again, gauging her. She made a slow circle motion, then tapped her wrist.

"Right. We need to get moving."

It was true, she understood love. She had kissed Chauncey and Simon. She'd done far more with Beagle and Sodom. She was told she had slept with Benny, but she sure didn't remember it.

They walked for a bit longer until the Courier turned to face Christine again.

"Um... Can't you communicate some other way? Can you write?"

Christine paused, then frowned and traced one of the scars on her head with her finger. She then made a motion as if picking up a pencil, tried to write, and shook her head.

"Something to do with the surgery?"

She paused, then drew a jagged lightning bolt through the air, putting on an odd, staring face. She kept the face blank for a moment, then blinked and looked around. Christine looked at her hands, shaking them, then let them go limp.

"Wait... So you have alexia?"

Christine raised a brow.

"That's an acquired inability to read or write despite having known before. It's usually caused by brain injuries or by a specific form of Pre-War brain surgery using electrodes." She'd been reading Arcade's medical books.

She nodded slowly, then made the motion of typing and drawing X's and lines in the air, giving a thumbs up.

"Oh, you can still do math. That's good to hear." the Courier sighed in relief.

She nodded, smiling.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

When the Courier reached the fountain with Christine, Dog and Dean were at it again.

"Why are you so carved up-" Dean paused, frowning. "That a _bear_ trap on your arm?" he asked, a little incredulous.

"Reminds me... Keeps the voice out of my head... He can't talk when the pain's howling at me..." Dog mused, but seemed to be talking to himself.

"Eh... Wait, so you're not just slow, you're screwy, too?" He rolled his eyes. "Some crew we are. We are never getting into the Sierra Madre." Dean lamented.

"Dog is hungry..." The nightkin frowned. "Tired of your voice... When do we eat?"

"Don't like the way this guy is looking at me." Dean turned to the Courier. "You better be his leash."

The Courier sighed, getting into place in front of the fountain. Elijah's holographic faced popped up, flickering before her.

"Good, well done. Now for the festivities, and your parts in all this. The owner of the Sierra Madre, for whatever reason, keyed the grand opening to the gala event itself. It needs to be fired off in order for the casino doors to open. As I've discovered, one person can't do it. So get your team into position indicated on your Pip-Boy, then trigger it properly. You're so close now, don't let me down. Otherwise, I'll have to rely on the next team."

"What is the gala event?"

"A display of lights, fireworks... music in the streets. A Pre-War festival to mark the casino's opening. The bombs struck first. It is of no consequence. Only firing the event is. Get the three into position, then travel to your position in Salida del Sol and trigger the gala. After that, the real work begins."

"What do you mean?"

"Perhaps you think this is a simple robbery. A cheap casino heist. No... This is a heist of the centuries. We're not plundering the Sierra Madre, we're plundering history, taking from the Old World itself. It won't let its secrets go easily... not without a fight. I wouldn't expect anything less."

"How am I supposed to get us to the markers on my map?"

"I've unlocked the west and east gates to Puesta del Sol and Salida del Sol. Now that you've survived the villa, I need to get to my position. You don't need me to hold your hand anymore. I'll keep monitoring you via the transceivers through the villa. If I need to offer guidance, I will."

"Um... We'll head out, then."

"I'd suggest taking the FEV reject to his position first. Although you may need his brutality and strength elsewhere first. As easy as the villa was to navigate... the outlying areas of the villa are far more dangerous, thicker with the ghost people, traps, and toxins. Use your team as I use you. Listen to your collar, watch where you step. You're no use to me dead."

Elijah's hologram receded back into the fountain, leaving the Courier to swallow hard and turn to face her team. Judging from the way Christine and Dog were staring each other down and Dean was struggling to light a cigarette... she was in trouble.


End file.
